Amy Gellar Troy
by passionatewriter84
Summary: Christian's life suddenly changes when he finds himself dealing with another child. Struggling to be a good father for her, his past soon comes back to haunt him. In a way that could very well be corrupting his own daughter. !REVIEWS would be loved!
1. Startling News

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** First off, let me start by telling you guys that there is no pairing in this particular **Nip/Tuck** story. The story is mainly focused around those Christian and one of my original characters,but there _is_ a subplot involving Matt McNamara and another with Kimber Henry. This is my first time writing a **Nip/Tuck** or television fan fiction so please don't be too hard on me.

**BACKGROUND:** _Now that Wilbur is no more, Christian's life suddenly changes when he finds himself dealing with another child. A child he never knew he had. Struggling to be a good father for the girl, his past soon comes back to haunt him. In a way that could very well be corrupting his own daughter. Not only that, but his relationship with Matt takes a turn for the worst._

**TIME FRAME:** The story takes place mid-way Season Two. A few days after Wilbur was taken from Christian & Gina, and right after the first Carver victum came to McNamara/Troy and Sean began fixing the work of the victums.

**DISCLAIMER:** _The "Nip/Tuck" characters/universe belong to the original creator, Ryan Murphy and theFX network. This storyis onlyintended for entertainment purposes. Orignal characters belong to yours truly._

* * *

The heat of the moment was intoxicating. For both of them. The humidity that filled the spacious bedroom engulfed both of their naked bodies. The man thrusted rhythmically towards the woman beneath him. The young girl screamed out in ecstasy, wanting the passion between them to continue on. It was an amazing feeling. Sex. Something that no other human being could comprehend unless they had actually experienced it. It was almost like a drug in itself. Not only was it addicting but it was an indulgent way of putting your free time to good use.

In the universe of Dr. Christian Troy, every night was a new opportunity. A new opportunity to make last night's one night stand better than before. He'd been with enough women in his time to know when the sex was good and when it was shit. He had a little black book full of past and present lovers who were lucky enough to satisfy his every desire in the sack. The unlucky ones he left behind, just as he did the dust from the exhaust pipe on his silver Porsche. In a city where beauty was desired over material possessions, Christian's eyes were always open for his next lay. No matter who it might be. Whether it were a stripper, a random woman he picked up at a bar or even one of his current patients...he'd charm his way in and get exactly what he wanted.

Women could not resist him. His rugged good looks drew heads everytime he entered the room. He stood at six feet and two inches. His bronze colored skin, dark brown close-cropped hair, piercing blue eyes, and full lips made him one of the most sought after ladies men in the city of Miami. Ladies were not only falling at his feet to get breast implants or a nose job, but to feed their own desires and get into his bed.

The young lady that laid beneath his large and muscular one-hundred and eighty-two pound body was generally not one of the most common females he brought back to his penthouse. He had found her at a local nightclub only an hour ago, having been aroused watching her move hypnotically to the beats that pumped out of the sound system, only dreaming about how she'd be in the sack. Being one of the best plastic surgeons in Miami, Florida, he had a knack for picking at a person's flaws and deciding how he'd go about changing them. Physically. This girl, however, had an incredibly molded physique. From her ample breasts down to her perfectly sculptured calves, she was a poster child if he'd ever seen one. Certainly someone he'd see on the cover of one of those corny teen magazines. At first glance, any other person would assume she couldn't have been more than nineteen. Close enough.

In the small-talk he had made with her at the club, she had only turned twenty one. A twenty one year old, blue eyed, chesnut brown haired, college student majoring in fashion design. None of this information was essential to Christian when the only thing he cared about was if she could feed his sexual desires. Well, as long as they'd been in bed, she wasn't doing the best job of it. What did he expect from a girl at her age? He could have been decieved entirely by her looks. Surely she'd been with other men in college who'd probably taken her back to their dorm and given her a decent screw, but this was ridiculous. She acted more as though she were experiencing everything for the first time. He was doing all the work and all she was doing was lying back and taking it all in as though she were riding a merry-go-round at a theme park.

Suddenly he was asking himself why he even bothered with her. This was definitely one woman who would not be in his book. Might as well give her cab fare and send her home to catch up on her homework.

The young woman looked up at him in bafflement when he seized his thrusting motions. "What's wrong?"

He sighed wearily. "It's late. I have to get up early tomorrow." He pulled out of her and turned around to scoop up her clothing and toss them her way. "You should go home. Don't you have a class in the morning? You wouldn't want to upset daddy by coming home late at night, would you?"

She clutched her silk, black spaghetti strap slip dress to her chest, along with her matching bra and panties, still bewildered by his abrupt actions. Pushing up to a seated position, her eyes narrowed. "I don't live under my daddy's roof anymore. Besides, I don't have class tomorrow." Her strawberry colored lips twisted into a smile. "Well, I do, but I don't have to go. I could skip it and stay here. We could...have a little fun, you know?" Her smile grew wider in a grin.

Christian grunted under his breath. Was this girl deaf? Did she or did she not hear that he had to get up early tomorrow? "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I really do have surgery in four hours. If I don't get some sleep, I might end up screwing up someone's tit job." He grabbed a white card from his dresser and tossed it to her. "For cab fare."

The young woman hesitated before slipping into her bra and standing up to pull on her panties. She looked over at him with a furrowed brow. "Was I...not good?"

He pursed his lips together as he took a step towards her. "Don't be disappointed sweetheart. You aren't the first and I'm sure you won't be the last. Allow me to offer you a bit of advice. The next time you get some adolescent college boy in your dorm, think back to this moment in time when you could have had a real man."

She sighed irritably, turning her back on him and slipping her dress over her head. "Oh, so I see. I'm just another one night stand." She scoffed. "I should have seen it coming."

He bent down, scooped up her black high heels and handed them over to her. "No hard feelings. It's your technique that could use some work, but if you're lucky, someday you might improve."

She grabbed her shoes and reached down to slip them onto her feet. "Thanks for the tip asshole," she spoke flatly.

He rolled his eyes but remained steadfast. Turning on his heels, he crossed the room to retrieve another white card from his coat pocket. She grabbed the card he had given her for cab fare and started out of his penthouse. "Hey!" She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice, turning her head towards him. He handed her the white card in his hand, "give me a call if you decide you want to do something about those stretch marks."

The girl's jaw dropped in astoundment. "Thanks for nothing, Dr. Troy!" Throwing the white card back in his face, she stomped off and departed his apartment in a huff.

He watched the young woman walk off, scoffing to himself. He strolled towards his bathroom, determined to jump in the shower when he noticed that he had a new messages on his answering machine. He stepped towards the table on the right side of his bed, reached out and pressed the button on the machine to retrieve the messages. An automated voice shortly came over the speaker.

_"Two new messages. Message one. Recieved at, six twenty-nine p-m." _There was a steady beep before a familiar female's voice echoed throughout the spacious bedroom. _"Hey asshole. It's me. I just thought you'd like to know that Wilbur's father has recently filed a restraining order on me. Apparently his sex-crazed mommy is infecting his mind with the ABC's of oral sex. Wilbur won't be seeing me anymore and he sure as hell won't be seeing you. His father's left the city and taken Wilbur with him. Maybe if you would have kept your dick in your pants in the first place, I wouldn't be in this situation. I pray to the high heavens that when you have a child of your own, you don't end up scarring them for life. Thanks for nothing asshole." _

Christian stood there in astonishment, having froze up the minute he heard the name "Wilbur." He swallowed the lump in his throat, his emotions rising to the surface. Finding the strength within him, he shuffled towards his king-sized bed and sat down in the disarray of the red egyptian cotton sheets. He couldn't feel anything at that moment. His body was numb. It all seemed like a dream, a nightmare. His heart ached in a way he had never felt before. It almost seemed like a part of him was missing. There was an emptiness in his heart. Tears welled up in his eyes and soon trickled down his cheeks. He was about ready to lose all composure until the steady beep came from the answering machine.

_"Message two. Recieved at, seven fifteen p-m." _Another beep followed the automated voice, and a new but familiar female's voice filled the room. _"Christian. Hi, it's Kimber. I just finished wrapping a cover shoot for Vogue. Can you believe it? Anyway, I was in the neighborhood earlier today and I passed by your place. Look, I know things between us didn't really work out before, but I'm willing to give it another shot...if you are. I was hoping we could get together sometime this week. I'm free tomorrow. Give me a call. Bye." _

The machine beeped one last time, the automated voice following. _"End of messages."_

He looked over at the answering machine, a brow furrowed in question. Dealing with Kimber Henry right now was the last thing on his mind. They had been on and off continuously. From lovers, to boyfriend/girlfriend, to friends, to lovers again, to enemies, and finally to friends. It was a non-stop cycle. He constantly found himself wondering if she was a masochist or simply just clingy. There were plenty of other men in this city, but she seemed to love the thrill of clinging to his arm like a hood ornament. Pushing the thoughts of the woman out of his head, he put his focus on Wilbur. A child he had grown to love ever since he was concieved, and now, a child he would never see again.

Putting his head in his hands, he tried to piece together how he could have let something like this slip right through his fingers. He wished he could stop time and go back to when this whole scenario began. Maybe Gina was right. If he hadn't of gotten involved with her in the first place, he wouldn't be feeling as frail as he was now. Then again, if she hadn't of come into his life, he would have never gotten the chance to experience what it truly felt like to be a father. There was no telling when he would experience that again, but it was certainly a long time coming.

He exhaled a deep sigh before pushing himself up to his feet and shuffling towards his bathroom. Within seconds, he slipped into the spacious marble shower. His masculine hands reached out to turn the knobs to a warm temperature, allowing the water from the shower head to slide down his strong upper body. He shut his eyes, exhaling a refreshed sigh. He tried mercilessly to push all thoughts of Gina, Wilbur, and Kimber out of his head. Putting all confidence in himself, he had to believe that his life would carry on in the same way it always did. It simply had to. He didn't see any other way around this dillema. There was so much going for him at the moment. He had a well-paying career, a great partner, and dozens of beautiful women in this city who would be putty in his hands. As far as he was concerned, nothing could ruin the life that he had worked so hard to obtain.


	2. A Lot To Handle

Nineteen year old, Amy Gellar, sat towards the back of the the large classroom, not paying much attention to the information the tall, broad shouldered, and Caucasian professor before her was presenting. He had a light haired mustache, wore a black Armani knock-off suit with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and a matching black beret.

The young girl leaned her cheek on her small but feminine hand, her large brown eyes averting downward, a weary sigh escaped her full and strawberry glossed lips. She set the pen she had been holding down on her open notebook. Her hand came up to tuck a few loose strands of her straight shoulder length auburn hair behind her ear. Her short and tanned legs were crossed over each other. She was slightly slumped down in her theater-style folding chair, almost ready to fall asleep. Usually, she was a huge film buff, but when it came to her History of American Cinema class, she wished it had been more like Film Appreciation. She'd rather pass the time watching movies than listening to a boring lecture for two and a half hours.

She couldn't even concentrate on the material being presented. There was too much on her mind and it was all giving her a migraine.

"Hey girl. Are you okay?"

Amy turned her head in the direction of the whisper, coming face to face with her best friend, Courtney Price. She wished she was born as beautiful and alluring as her. She had wavy, shoulder length chesnut brown hair, piercing brown eyes, full and pouty lips, and a toned but voluptuous upper body. She could have been a model if that's what she had been majoring in. It made Amy feel inferior, but she liked Courtney for her personality, not her appearance. She scowled, but nodded her head, keeping her tone of voice down to the same tone as her, "yeah, I guess I just got a lot on my mind lately."

Courtney's brows furrowed, closing her notebook up and giving her friend her undivided attention. "Like what?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, her eyes falling back down on her notebook. Taking her pen back into her hand, she began doodling along the left margin. "I don't know. Just stuff. It's complicated." She sighed woefully.

"What do you mean? Come on chica, we tell each other everything."

She stole a glance at the professor who looked none too pleased to see that the two of them were attempting to hold a conversation right in the middle of his lecture. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this now. Not here anyway."

Courtney looked from Amy to the professor and then back to Amy, an irritable sigh escaped her. "I guess not, but you better tell me after class. You've been acting weird this whole week. You're going to drive me crazy if you keep looking down in the dumps like that."

She nodded her head gently. "Okay." She chewed on her lower lip apprehensively, keeping her gaze fixated on the piece of paper she had been drawing random faces on. Each one of the faces showed a different emotion, but none of them had smiles on them.

Their class ended fourty minutes later and the numerous rows of students began packing up their things and filing out of the room. Both Amy and Courtney were more than relieved that they could head home. It was their only class that Friday, and they had the rest of the afternoon to spend it as they saw fit.

Amy stuffed her hot pink notebook into her lavender Jansport backpack and flung the strap over her right shoulder, shuffling down the length of the aisle until she reached the sloping walkway. Courtney followed behind her, linked her arm with hers and walked alongside her out of the room, "so, are you going to tell me now?"

A deep sigh escaped her, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground at her feet. "I don't really know how to explain it. Ever since we moved to Florida, things have been really stressful. It's nothing like California was."

She exhaled sharply, looking over at her companion. "Are you still stressing over the move? Your mom's boyfriend is an idiot. The only reason he wanted to move here is because he wanted a fresh start in finding employment. How pathetic is that? He could have easily found a job in southern California. Besides, it's a bigger state."

Amy swallowed the lump in her throat before she pushed through the plexi glass door and stepped out into the bright afternoon sunlight that beat down on the Miami university campus. "Well, he's a better father than my..." Her voice trailed off, stopping herself from going any further. Her bottom lip trembled as tears began welling up in her eyes. She held her emotions at bay.

Courtney's brows furrowed inquisitively when her friend stopped talking, turning her head to see the tears in her eyes. A deep scowl stretched across her face. The moment Amy stopped walking, so did she. Turning towards her, she scrutinized the sorrow on her face. "Hey. What's wrong girl? Did I...did I say something wrong?"

Her eyes fell down to her feet, shaking her head. "No. That's not it. I..." Her head continued to shake vigorously. "I don't know if I can explain it. I know I keep saying that, but if you knew..." She took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart.

She stared at her in bafflement. "Knew what? Come on, you can tell me. I'm not going to blab it to the whole world or anyone else in this school. It'll feel so much better just to get it out. Tell me."

Amy pursed her lips. A single tear trickled down her cheek but she quickly brushed it away. "I don't know who my father is anymore," her voice broke with emotion. "I found out...I was adopted."

Courtney blinked back her astonishment. Her jaw hung open in shock. "What? I thought..." Her voice trailed off, not knowing how to formulate a sentence.

She gently nodded her head. "So did I." She sighed deeply, her voice still shaking with the immense emotion still bottled up inside of her. "About two months ago, when we were still in California, I got so fed up with my dad calling me up on the phone every weekend begging me to let him back into my life, so I went and tried to see if he was really my father. I was already pissed at my mom because she agreed with the move, so I requested to find out if they were _both_ my parents. I didn't really know why I was doing it. I was mad. I wasn't thinking. So...when we finally moved out here, I forgot all about it, but this investigator guy didn't forget about me." A few more tears rolled down her cheeks, taking another breath to calm her anxiety.

Her friend listened intently, the astonishment on her face growing the more she heard. She crossed her arms comfortably over her chest. "And...what happened?"

"I...got a call on Monday. The same man I talked to back in California. He told me that he tried to send a letter to our old address but it came back to him, so he got a hold of our phone number here in Florida. He told me...my parents weren't my real parents. He told me I was adopted...and that he had the names of my real, biological parents." She sighed deeply, wiping another tear from her eye and finally raising her watery eyes to look up at Courtney. "He was going to tell me their names over the phone, but I didn't let him. I was in so much shock, I swear I almost fainted. So he told me he would mail me the birth certificate and everything. I had enough courage to give him my address, and...I got the letter in the mail yesterday."

Courtney slowly nodded her head. "And? What did it say?"

She bit down on her bottom lip, sniffling deeply as she continued to wipe away the tears. She shook her head, "I haven't opened it yet. I'm scared." There was an awkward silence between the two girls. Amy was trying mercilessly to get her next words out until finally, she pushed the lump down in her throat, and spoke softly. "They live here...in Florida."

Courtney eyes widened, trying to find her own voice. "This is just a coincidence, right? It has to be. Are you sure he said Florida?"

She gently nodded. "Y-yeah. I'm sure." She turned on her heels and trudged towards a nearby bench. Lowering her meek figure down on it, she let her backpack slip off her shoulder and fall to the ground before she covered her face with her hands and put her head in her lap. "I don't know what to do."

Courtney followed and sat down beside her, wrapping her arm around her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. "It's ok." She sighed deeply. "Damn, I can't imagine what you must be going through right now. If this was happening to me...I wouldn't know what to do either. Hey, come on girl, everything is going to be all right. I mean, it's not like you have to go out and search for them. If it's stressing you out that much, just ignore it."

She shook her head, wiping the stray tears from her eyes and looking back at her friend. "I can't just ignore it! It's going to drive me crazy if I try and ignore it. I never thought...it was just a spur of the moment when I did it. Now that I've found out about it, my whole life has changed." She put her head in her hands as it began to throb. "God, why did this have to happen now? Why here? God, I wish this could be a dream. A horrible dream."

Courtney allowed her to lean her head on her shoulder, a weary sigh escaping her. "Me too. I don't know what to tell you girl. You could either try and ignore it and move on with your life...or you could confront it and find out who your real parents are. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like your parents are going to find out if you don't drop any hints to them. Besides, you have your own car. If you wanted to go and find them, you could do it without them finding out. Shit, you're almost an adult. It's your own decision. If you want, I could even go along with you."

Amy nodded her head gently, pursing her lips to hold back the emotion she still felt. "I guess. I guess I'll try and get up enough courage to open that letter...when I get home. It's not like I have to do anything anyway."

Courtney nodded in approval. "It's worth a shot. Hey, come on, let's go get some ice cream. It'll take your mind off of everything."

She exhaled sharply. "Okay." Together, the two girls rose to their feet and headed towards the parking lot just a short ways down from the Liberal Arts building. Courtney linked arms with her as they strolled alongside each other. Amy exuded a weary groan, her eyes falling to her two-inch heeled boots as they carried her down the pavement. "Why do I deal with this shit?"


	3. Once Bitten, Twice Shy

"Why do I deal with this shit, Sean?" Christian peeled his eyes off of the area on his right forearm that he was hastily scrubbing to look across at his partner, Sean McNamara. The two surgeons were standing over the scrub sinks in the alcove overlooking the operating room where they would be performing a rhinoplasty on a middle-aged female in just a matter of minutes.

Sean McNamara was a slightly less shorter man than Christian with a thin but well-built frame, fair complexion, short and messy brown hair, beady blue eyes, bushy brows, and thin lips. He glanced up from his scrubbing, his right brow furrowing inquisitively. "Kimber wants to reconcile? Haven't we been over this numerous times before?"

He sighed softly, leaning a little closer to the tap and washing off the soap on his arms. "Well, you know what they say. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. That crazy bitch nearly castrated me the last time she tried to reconcile. If the sex was shit, I wouldn't have kept her around as long as I did. I would have sent her packing just like any other woman. I'm not about to lose my bits and pieces this time around."

"If it's that much of an issue, why don't you just turn her down?"

"A lot has changed since then. Frankly, I'm getting tired of banging inexperienced college girls who don't know the first thing about giving a proper blow job. Kimber was one of the few women I've met who was worth a second screw. Now I'm not about to risk losing my dick, but I haven't had a satisfying sexual experience like that in weeks."

Sean moved the soaped up sponge from his left forearm down to the tops of his knuckles. "You of all people have never had a problem finding a brief satisfying sexual encounter. There are plenty of women in this city who I'm sure could satisfy you for more than one night. You could give this thing with Kimber another chance, or you could find someone else. It's entirely up to you, Christian."

He scoffed. "My problem isn't finding a woman who can satisfy me, Sean. My problem is finding one who knows what the hell she's doing. You should have seen this girl I picked up last night. She made the sex seem like a God damn merry-go-round."

Sean fell quiet as his mind wandered off to contemplate his own problems. He kept his gaze down at his hands, focusing on the task before him.

Noticing his partner's suddenly quiet state, he took his eyes off of his scrubbing to focus intently on the man across from him. "All right. Apparently I'm not the only one with problems. What bug crawled up your ass?"

Sean looked up at him with a furrowed brow. "Julia's considered getting a face lift."

He stared at him blankly. "She can still pass for a woman in her late twenties, Sean. It's hardly time for that. Although, she could probably benefit from a slight peel around the eyes, maybe a neck lift. Other than that, she's still got years to go until a face lift is in order."

"That's what I was trying to get across to her. First it's her breasts, and now this? For God's sakes, she's worrying she's turning into her mother."

He scrubbed the top of his left hand, moving over his knuckles to the tips of his fingers before leaning forward and rinsing the soap off. "Jesus. The day that bomb drops, I'll might as well be on my way out of this God damn city and onto to more uncharted territories."

Sean finished rinsing the soap off of his arms and raised his hands before him. "Still think you have a chance with the misses, do you?"

He followed suit and lifted both hands in the air, following his partner out of the scrub alcove and into the operating room. "You sir, have forgotten that I had her first. In the event that she transforms into her mother, you won't have to worry if I'm making unnecessary advances in your absence. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

"Thanks for the tip. I'll keep that in mind," Sean replied flatly.

The two men dried their hands off on a sterile towel and shoved their hands into each pair of rubber gloves the scrub technicians held out for them. They slipped into their gowns and were masked for surgery.

The anesthesiologist, Liz, spoke up from her position at the head of the gurney. She was a tall, full-figured woman with a fair complexion, large brown eyes, long curly brown hair, and full luscious lips. "Ladies and gentlemen, our patient is deeply in twilight and ready to be turned from Shrek into Gwenyth."

Christian looked down at the patient before them. An alluring blonde with wide blue eyes and bronze colored skin. The only flaw on this woman was her bulbous nose that made her look more like a duck than a cartoon character. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, contemplating how good she would be in his bed. Once they broke the mold of her nose, she'd be good as new, and he could take full advantage of everything she had to offer. This wouldn't be the first patient he'd picked up after their procedure. If Julia was still out of his league and he wasn't getting anywhere with the women he was picking up, he had to go right back to square one.


	4. New Parents & New Friends

"So...are you going to open it?"

Amy looked up from the white envelope she fingered in her shaky hands to gaze at her best friend. She chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. The two young women were sitting outside of the ice cream parlor just up the street from the university. A styrofoam cup of partially eaten strawberry ice cream sat before Amy, while a half eaten cup of chocolate ice cream sat in front of Courtney. "I-I don't know." She swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore.

Courtney wrapped her arm around her friend, giving it a comforting rub. "Come on girl. You have to get it over with. It's not going to kill you. It's not like there's a ticking time bomb waiting inside that envelope. Just open it already or you're going to start driving _me_ crazy."

Her heart pounded in her chest. She willed herself to take a deep calming breath before she slipped her index finger under the seal and broke it. It felt as if everything were going in slow motion as she reached inside the envelope and pulled out the birth certificate tucked inside the letter. She didn't look at it yet. Instead, she turned her head away and handed it over to Courtney. "You look at it, I can't."

Courtney was hesitant but took the medium-sized piece of paper from her and fixed her gaze on it. She stole a glance at a peevish Amy. "Do you want me to tell you who your parents are?"

She stared at her for a long moment, not knowing what she should do until slowly nodding her head.

"Your mother's name is Danielle Fuller, and your father's name is Christian Troy."

Although she was still apprehensive about who exactly these people were, she felt some sort of relief now that she knew their names. She bit down on her bottom lip before a deep sigh escaped her. "Does...does it say anything about where they work? Their addresses?"

Courtney shook her head and handed the piece of paper back to her. "Nope. Sorry girl. I guess you'd have to do that on your own. It's not that hard really, you just have to call 4-1-1 and request their phone number. If you want their addresses, you could just look in the phone book...unless of course they're not listed, but hey, it's worth a shot. Everyone can do that. I mean, if you wanted to."

She held her gaze on the certificate in her hand, running the tips of her fingers over the signature of her father. Her heart beat a little faster at the thought that he could have been a better father to her than her adopted one. That is, if he actually had raised her himself. Maybe he would have been one of those fathers that treated their daughters like a princess. Maybe he would have been the type to read his daughter a bedtime story until she was a teenager. Perhaps he would have nutured his daughter instead of physically abusing her.

"What are you going to do?"

Her friend's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She scowled deeply, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "I don't know. Maybe...I'll call them. One of them. I'm still trying to let all of this sink in. I just can't help but think that if they find out about me...they won't want anything to do with me. They'll just reject me and tell me to go back to wherever it is I came from." She pursed her lips, holding the tears at bay.

"You don't know that. They might be happy to see you." Courtney shrugged. "They might feel bad that they even gave you up for adoption at all. You never know."

She was going to say something else when the door to the ice cream parlor opened and a thin young man with short brown hair, bushy brows, squinty brown eyes, and full lips strolled out. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his blue jeans, his head hung low. Both girls turned their heads to notice the boy.

"Hey Matt!" Courtney sprung up from her chair and walked over to the boy, a bright smile on her face.

"Courtney, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, me and my friend, Amy, just stopped by to get some ice cream. Obviously." She slipped her hand under Matt's arm and urged him towards the inquisitive girl sitting at the patio table. When Amy saw the pair coming over, she slipped her birth certificate back into the envelope it had come in and set it aside. "Amy? This is Matt McNamara, Gretchen's cousin. Remember? I told you about him last week." She looked from Amy to Matt then back to Amy. "Matt? This is my best friend, Amy Gellar."

Amy sent him a light wave and a small smile. "Hi."

He returned the small smile with one of his own. "Hi. Nice to meet you Amy."

She nodded her head. "You too, Matt."

Courtney looked between the pair, arching her brows in surprise. "Oh-kay." She moved back into her seat beside Amy and gestured to the empty chair next to her. "Sit down and join us. You're more than welcome to."

Matt nodded his head gently. "Okay." He took the empty seat beside Courtney and looked between the two girls. "So, what's going on?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders, toying with the spoon in her ice cream and pushing it around in her cup. "Not a lot. We just got out of class. We thought we'd hang out here at the ice cream parlor."

Courtney grasped Matt's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, leaning a little closer to him. "We could be hanging out at your place. When the heck are you going to invite me over?"

He shrugged with a light laugh. "I don't know. I have to wait until my parents aren't home."

Amy's brows furrowed in bafflement and looked up at the pair, wondering how on earth her friend could have been dating him and never mentioned it to her before. "Are you guys...?" Her voice trailed off, allowing them to put the pieces together.

He and Courtney exchanged a look. Before Courtney could speak, he spoke for the both of them. "Uh...no. We hang out from time to time. That's about it."

"Yeah. We hang out. Just last weekend we went to the movies and stopped by the beach." Courtney released Matt's hand and placed hers on his thigh, letting it run up towards his crouch. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, her action taking him by surprise. "He calls it 'hanging out,' but I call it dating. I mean, if you're with a member of the opposite sex, that's considered a date. Right?"

Amy's bewilderment grew the longer she watched the scene before her. She had a slight suspicion what Courtney was up to, but she wasn't going to say anything. At least not yet.

Matt swallowed the lump in his throat, lightly nodding his head at Courtney. "Yeah. I guess you could say that." He sent Amy a forced smile. "We're dating."

Courtney's hand started back up towards his crouch, but he took hold of it before it could get there and instead, gave it a squeeze. Leaning in, she placed a kiss to his neck and followed with another to his cheek. "Matt is great. I love being with him." She flashed a smile at him before turning to look at her awkward friend.

Amy nodded her head, her eyes shifting from Courtney to Matt. "So, tell me more about yourself, Matt. Courtney didn't tell me that much except that you're still in high school and cousins with Gretchen."

Moving her chair closer to him, Courtney placed another kiss along the curve of his neck. She stole a glance at Amy, "well, he's cute for one thing."

Matt's cheeks flushed bashfully, his eyes falling to his lap. "Well, I'm seventeen." He raised his eyes back up to look over at Amy. "I've lived in Miami my whole life. I don't have a job, but as soon as I get one, I'm planning on moving out. Maybe I'll move in with my uncle." He shrugged his shoulders. "Beyond that, my life really isn't that exciting."

She nodded in regard. "Oh," she laughed lightly. She sighed wearily, fiddling with her spoon once again. The next time she looked up, she saw the pair whispering to each other about God knew what. If she had to guess, it was definitely not a conversation that she belonged in. It did, however, make her feel neglected. Pushing up to her feet, she grabbed her cup of ice cream and disposed of it in the nearest trash bin. Neither Matt nor Courtney even realized she was gone until they turned and saw her pushing in her chair.

"Hey, are you leaving already?" Matt inquired.

She exchanged a look with Courtney before nodding her head. "Yeah. I should get home. My mom hates it when I'm out late." She grabbed the white envelope with her birth certificate and slipped it into her pink and black purse. "It was nice meeting you, Matt. Bye guys."

He nodded. "Yeah. You too."

She was already turning to leave when Courtney grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hey, wait up girl! Why are you leaving?"

Amy turned back to her friend with a weary sigh. "Look, it's obvious that I'm just being a third wheel to you and Matt. I should go home."

Courtney shook her head, her brows furrowing inquisitively. "You're not being a third wheel. I didn't even know he was going to show up here. It just...happened. Look, I know you've never had a boyfriend, but I really like Matt. I'm sorry if I seemed to rub your nose in it. That's not what I was trying to do. If you want to go home, you know, it's cool. I can walk back to the campus with Matt and get home."

She sighed softly, nodding her head. "Okay. Well, I'll just call you later." Courtney nodded in understanding. She sent Matt another wave before walking off towards her blue VW bug. Where was a real father when she needed one? She needed a father to help her through her boy dillemas. Neither her adoptive father or mother's boyfriend could help with that scenario. Maybe this Christian Troy would be the type of father to give her advice on boys. That was, if he actually wanted her back in his life. Only time would tell.

As she slipped behind the wheel of her vehicle, she couldn't help but wonder what her real father was doing at that very moment.


	5. There's Still Hope

Christian sat behind the desk in his spacious office located in the building where he and Sean held the "McNamara/Troy" practice. A business they had started from scratch and worked so hard to get off the ground. He had been waiting far too long to make the amount of money they raked in everyday, even if most of their work happened to be pro bono. Nothing could excite him more than the sexually stimulating females that traipsed in and out of the building everyday.

He had an office with a great view, having decided on the interior himself when they'd first moved in. On the left side of the room was the glass table that doubled as his desk. A few items sat atop including a white adjustable lamp, a black cordless phone, a stapler, a rectangular glass case to hold important documents, and a small glass box that held rubber bands. An elongated multi-panned window sat on the left hand side of his desk. The shade was drawn over it, allowing the afternoon sunlight to cast a radiant glow on the man sitting before it. Two black and white metal chairs sat before the large desk. A picture of an eye hung on the wall behind his desk chair. Two white and comfy wing chairs sat near another large window a few feet away. A circular glass table sat between them with a few stacks of transparent plastic cups sitting on top.

He and Sean had finished their rhinoplasty a mere ten minutes ago. At the moment, he was taking a load off before their five o' clock arrived. A soft knock came from the opposite side of his door. He sat back in his black and white metal chair and turned his head towards the door. "Come in."

The door opened and a tall, curvaceous female sauntered inside, holding a small white box in her perfectly manicured hands. She had long straight brown hair, wide blue eyes, and full luscious lips. Her beige colored shorts and black low-cut tank top clung to her figure in all the right places, showing off not only her ample breasts, but the honey colored skin of her arms and legs. "Delivery for Dr. Christian Troy."

His senses came alive the moment he laid eyes on her. A devilish grin crept across his face. He watched her every movement as she inched towards his desk and set the white box on the desk before him. He looked from the box to her before leaning forward and folding his hands on top of the desk. "I would hope that whatever you're delivering isn't in that box." The grin remained on his face.

The female tilted her head to one side, a bright smile curling her lips. "What did you have in mind, Dr. Troy?"

He arched his brows in intrigue before pushing up to his feet. He crossed to the open door and shut it before taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately. The woman wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to urge her back onto her heels until the two of them slammed into the wall on the right side of the room. He dropped his pants. She dropped her shorts. And in a split second, he was thrusting inside of her in a rapid and rhythmic motion. They both screamed out in pleasure, but kept their voices down to a reasonable tone so they would not be heard by the other people in the building. Beads of sweat broke out at Christian's temples. One of his hands came up to cover the woman's mouth the moment her screams became too noisy.

His body was erupting with passion that he hadn't felt in weeks. It was a drug that he had been without for so long, he suddenly forgot how amazing and intoxicating it was. There was no greater high than this. Feeling the woman's walls tighten around him, his thrusting became firmer. At that moment, he was overwhelmed with ecstasy that he simply couldn't keep himself from crying out. He didn't care anymore who heard him. The employees in the building had been working with him long enough to get use to these random sex acts on the job. If they hadn't gotten use to it, well tough shit. What he did in the privacy of his office was his business, no matter how many times Sean chewed him out for it.

The woman's screams were muffled by his hand. While he was at the breaking point of his climax, she was experiencing multiple orgasms. This woman felt so good inside him. So damn intoxicating that he did not want to stop. He shut his eyes tightly as he screamed out and came at the exact same time as she did. His hand came away from her mouth as the two of them collapsed against each other, breathing heavily and dripping in sweat. As soon as the two of them had collected themselves, he disposed of the condom and pulled up his pants.

He smiled smugly at the woman, strolling back to his desk. "When you deliver sweetheart, you certainly don't disappoint."

Brushing the matted hair away from her heart shaped face, she flashed him a grin. "The feeling is mutual, Dr. Troy." She sent him a coy wave before heading towards the door.

He watched her strut out of his office. The alluring motion of her hips swaying back and forth causing a an errection to take form in his pants. He lowered himself back down into the chair behind his desk, the smug smile remaining on his face.

The moment the woman disappeared around the corner, Sean came into view. He took one look at the departing woman and one look at Christian, his brows furrowing inquisitively. He planted his hands on his hips and fixed his gaze on his partner.

Christian knew exactly what was going to come out of his colleague's mouth even before he spoke. He sighed irritably, folding his hands on the desk before him. "What now?"

Sean kept his voice to a minimum. "I'm trying to phase it out, but am I to believe you've commited yet _another_ sexual act in this office? For God's sakes Christian. Can you at least _try _to act professionally around here for a change?"

He shifted in his seat, forcing a small smile his way. "Can you at least try to not be such a God damn hypocrite? _You_ were the one who told me only an hour ago to find some other mamazon to stick my dick in, did you not?"

"I didn't say to have sex with the first woman who waltzed into your office! How many times have we been over this Christian? I told you before. You don't shit where you eat. We can't afford to lose anymore clients. This is a business, not a breeding ground for porn stars and strippers. You may not care if you get hit with a lawsuit, but I do. If you're going to continue these random sex acts, do it in the privacy of your own home. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," he averted his eyes to his desk before looking back up at Sean. A smile played at the corners of his mouth with his next words but he refused to let it show. "Thanks for the lecture, _dad_."

Sean took a few steps towards his desk. "If you're going to become any kind of a father in the near future, you're going to have to start making some changes in your life. What's your son or daughter going to think when they come home and find dad with a different woman every night? It's not going to be such a pretty picture. You've already infected my son's mind with what you do. What are you going to do when you have one of your own?"

He shifted his eyes to focus on something else in the room. A lump formed in his throat as he pursed his lips. "I've already been down that road, Sean." His eyes drifted back to the man. "Are you forgetting what happened when Gina broke the news to me? I became a different person when I was around Wilbur." He paused for a moment, holding back the emotion rising to the surface. "I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone. I dedicated so much time trying to be his father...until I realized he already had one. I gave so much love to him. I protected him with my life. I fought for the legal right to become his guardian. I figured I'd be better at raising him than his bitter and sex-crazed mother. After all that, everything went to shit."

He stopped himself from saying anymore, contemplating whether he should tell Sean or not. Finally, he spoke. "His father recently filed a restraining order on Gina. He left the city and took Wibur with him." His voice broke with his last words, "I'll never see him again."

Sean stood there, listening intently to the heartfelt words of his colleague and feeling for him. A deep scowl remained on his face. He took another step towards his desk, dropping his hands from his hips. "You can still have a child of your own, Christian, but only if you're willing to make some sacrifices in your life to become a parent to that child."

He cleared his throat and pushed himself up to his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in his royal blue lab coat. "The only problem is, I can't find a woman in this city who can satisfy me for one night, let alone settle down with one of them." He rounded his desk and stepped towards Sean. "Frankly, the odds of me becoming a father again are about the same as me cutting my dick off."

"Just as long as the women satisfy you elsewhere and not in the office." Sean stole a glance down at his watch. "Our five o' clock should be getting here any minute." Turning on his heels, he headed out of the office, Christian following behind him.


	6. I Can't Take Anymore

Amy stood in the spacious master bedroom of the modern, two-story, spanish style house she resided in with her mother, Teresa, and her mother's boyfriend, Chris. The young woman's brows furrowed inquisitively as her mother handed her a few sheets of paper, which she could already tell were job applications.

Like most adoptive parents, her mother looked nothing like her. She was a short, full-figured Caucasian woman with wavy, shoulder length honey blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and thin lips. Chris was the opposite of her adoptive father's appearance. He was a tall, unattractive, barrel-chested and Caucasian man with short curly brown hair, deep-set brown eyes, bushy brows, and jutting jaw. She tended to wonder what her mother saw in the man in the first place. They were an odd couple if she'd ever heard of one.

"Here. I picked up a few applications for you from work. One is for the library downtown, another is to work at the regional park, Coral Gables. The last one is a secretary position at the medical office in South Beach. All you need to do is fill them out and I'll turn them in for you."

Amy exhaled sharply and shoved the applications back at her. "No! God, I wish you'd stop fucking pressuring me to get a job! I don't need one right now, I'm still going to college. Shit. Just leave me the hell alone!"

Teresa sighed in frustration, her eyes narrowing on the young woman. "I'm not going to be paying for your tuition the rest of my life. You're going to have to start taking some responsibility around here. You've got a car. If you don't start paying for the insurance yourself, I'm not going to do it for you anymore. I have bills to pay."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I can't handle going to college AND having a job at the same time! I'd barely have time to breathe."

"Then go to college part-time. How do you think _I_ manage? Do you think it's any fun for me? You're not even taking but two courses right now. You spend four hours out of the week at college and then come home and spend the rest of your time sitting in front of the computer. You can't waste your life away there! Do you want to become a low-life like your father?"

Tears began welling up in her eyes. "Shut the fuck up! I don't waste ALL of my time in front of the computer. I'm almost twenty years old. I can do whatever I want! I'll get a job when I'm ready to get a job. Not when you fucking tell me to."

"Don't talk to your mother that way!" Chris blurted defensively, pushing himself up to seated position from his spot on their bed.

She shot a glare at the man before turning her attention back to her mother, who looked ready to explode at any moment.

Her mother looked from Amy to Chris, then back to Amy, lowering her voice to a tone that only she could hear, "don't you dare speak to me like that around Chris." Her voice returned to the same spiteful tone it had started. "As long as you're still living under this roof, you _can't_ do whatever you want. You're still my responsibility and I still make the rules around here! Oh, and what have you been doing all day? It's almost seven o' clock at night! I don't like you being out in this city at night and all by yourself."

Her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself? I'm almost TWENTY years old! I can take care of myself. I'm not a God damn child anymore. I don't need you to stand beside me and hold my hand in everything I do and everywhere I go."

"Stop using that language and stop taking the Lord's name in vain. You may be on your way to being twenty years old, but until you move out of this house, you don't have the grounds to make your own decisions. Now take the applications," the woman handed them back to her, but she wouldn't take them.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she could feel tears stinging her eyes. "No! Just leave me alone. I'm moving in with Courtney. Don't talk to me anymore!" She turned on her heels and started out of the room but her mother grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Oh no you're not! We aren't done here young lady." Teresa insisted.

She tugged her arm back from her mother's grasp. "Don't touch me! Why can't you just leave me alone!" She continued on her way out of the room, but Teresa was not about to back down.

The woman followed her daughter into the hallway. "I am NOT going to leave you alone until you start taking respon--"

"You're NOT my REAL MOTHER!" Amy screamed. Marching into her bedroom, she slammed the door behind her and locked it. She stood there for a moment, listening intently to see if the woman was still out there. The only sound she heard was the muffled sound of the television from their room, followed by the voice of her mother. She couldn't hear what she was saying, but she knew her well enough to know she was most likely talking about her behind her back and telling Chris exactly how irresponsible she was.

She crossed her room and turned on her stereo system. The device sat on top of the chest of drawers just inside the door. Snap's song, "The Power" pumped out of the speakers nosily. Collapsing down on her bed, the tears began streaming down her cheeks as she sobbed softly. She couldn't believe that this was her life. Where were her real parents when she needed them? Not having a father was one thing, but how could this woman think she was actually a good mother? There was no way she could continue on this way. It would drive her to the nut house or to her own destruction.

Sniffling deeply, she fixed her watery eyes on the front pocket of her backpack where a corner of the white envelope was sticking out. She knew what she had to do. It could very well make things worse, or...it might make them better. There was only one way to find out. Maybe these two strangers would give her some sense of shelter away from this hell that she was living. Reaching out, she unzipped the front pocket and slipped the envelope out with a shaky hand. Lifting the seal, she slipped her hand inside and fingered the birth certificate before sliding it out. She wiped a tear from her eye, fixing her gaze on the two signatures. Inhaling deeply, she turned towards her nightstand and took out a pad of paper and a pen. She hesitated before finally taking the cordless phone from its base and dialing 4-1-1.

Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, she turned the volume down on the stereo as she spoke softly into the phone. "Um, Chr-Christian Troy. It's a residence. Miami, Florida." A lump formed in her throat as she waited for the number to be given. Her heart pounded in her chest. It took a leap of courage to put the pen to the paper and note the phone number when it was given to her. Turning the cordless off and hanging up, she stared down at the large round buttons on the device in her hand, debating with herself about whether or not she should call the man now.

What if she caught him at a bad time? What if he wasn't home? What if she couldn't speak the moment he came on the line? There were a dozen questions flooding her mind. As terrified as she felt, she could not afford to cry anymore tears. She had to think about doing what was right for herself. Everything happened for a reason. This time, she had to believe that she was destined to find out who her real parents were so that they could make a better life for her. The life she never got to have.

She took a couple deep breaths to calm her racing heart before she turned the cordless back on. While her fingers continued to shake, she dialed the set of numbers on the sheet of paper before her. Her stomach knotted up and her heart constricted as she listened to it ring. Once. Twice. Before it could ring a third time, someone picked up. A deep voice came over the line. "Hello?"

Her mind went blank, and for a long moment, she didn't know what to say. Her tongue felt like lead. A huge lump formed in her throat. She tried to form a sentence, even if she began stammering but nothing came out.

"Hello?" The voice came again, more intent than before.

She forced herself to push the words out from the back of her throat. "Is-is this Christian Troy?"

"Yes it is. Who's this?"

"Um..." What was she suppose to say? _Hi, I'm your daughter. You may not remember me. Obviously, because you must have given me up at birth. What's up dad? _There was no doubt in her mind that the next sound she'd hear would be a click. He would think she was insane and instantly hang up on her.

"Who is this? Hello?" The man was still on the line.

Instinct took over and she panicked. "No one." She hung up the phone immediately before he could say anymore. She brought a hand up to her mouth in astonishment, asking herself what on earth she had just done. Her heart returned to a normal rate now that she had calmed down, but she still felt just as disorriented as she did when she found out she was adopted. Sighing deeply, she reached for the cordless once again and dialed Courtney. Perhaps she could help her get a handle on everything before she got up the courage to call the man again.


	7. Man To Man

Christian's forehead wrinkled inquisitively as he set his cordless phone back on its perch. He was baffled as to who had called him without giving their name and said only seven words before hanging up on him. He had checked the caller ID but the LCD screen read: "Not Available." He considered the possibilities. It couldn't have been a wrong number or the person wouldn't have asked for his name. Perhaps it had been a woman he had had a brief sexual encounter with in the past. The voice didn't seem familiar. This voice had been meek and there was a touch of innocence behind it. He wasn't psychic, nor was he the type of person to read someone just by the sound of their voice, but he was sure of one thing. Whoever the woman had been, he had a feeling he would not be hearing the last of her. Something was tugging at his heart, but he couldn't figure out what.

Shrugging it off as nothing, he rose to his feet and trudged towards his living room. Frankly, he didn't feel like going out and picking up some random girl at the club downtown or getting himself hard at a strip club. He could treat himself to a late night X-Rated film on cable if he wanted to get off. Entering his living room, he flipped on the flat screen television when suddenly, his phone started ringing again.

He exhaled sharply, "shit." With a roll of his eyes, he shuffled back in the direction he had come. There was no doubt in his mind who could be calling him. It had to have been the same woman that called before. He marched over to his cordless phone and answered it on the third ring. He almost shouted his words. "Who the hell is this?"

"Uncle Chris! It's me, Matt." The boy said, in a hushed but urgent tone.

"Matt, hi. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." He moved to sit down at the end of his bed, listening intently to the young man. "What's up?"

"Uh, I'm kind of in a situation here and I could really use your advice. I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

"No, not at all. I hope you're not planning on telling me you've snipped away at your dick again. We've been over this before, kid. We did one circumcision and got rid of that un-Godly anteater living in your pants. You don't need another one."

"That's not the reason I'm calling you. Believe me, I'm perfectly happy with the way my dick is."

"All right. What can the intelligent and experienced Christian do for you tonight?"

"Well, there's this girl. I met her about a week ago, and we've been kind of dating on and off. We haven't been getting that serious. I like her, a lot. We were just hanging out at the ice cream parlor today, and she started getting pretty heated with me. Now she brings me back to her place and we start making out."

Christian waited for him to go on, but he didn't. Then, something clicked in his mind. "And you're wondering if you should take it to the next level..._tonight_. Frankly, your father would kill me for putting in my two cents on the subject, but as long as you use protection, I don't see a problem with it. If you really like this girl, and you want to get physically closer, I'm not going to hold you back."

"The thing is, I really care about her. I'm not trying to rush into anything. If I go too fast, I might scare her off. If I go too slow, she'll probably dump me for the first over-experienced college guy that comes along. God, she's so beautiful...if you could only see her. I want to make her happy. I don't want this to turn into the same shit that I went through with Vanessa."

"Matt, if there's one thing I've learned about the ladies, it's all about charm. You charm your way in, play it cool for a while, and you sir, have left them wanting more. Remember what I told you? It's all about the ladies. If you like her that much and you really want to please her, you open your eyes and ears and cater to _her_ needs. You're old enough to decide what you want and when you want it. Don't be afraid to call it a night and head home either. Chances are, if she's as hot for you as you say she is, I can guarantee you won't be seeing the last of her."

"Thanks Uncle Chris. Really, I appreciate it, but the last thing I want is to seem like some sort of tease. I'm not you, man. I don't have as much of an impact on girls as you do."

"The last thing I'd do is turn you into a tease. Trust me, you play by my rules for the moment, and this girl will be eating out of the palm of your hand. It's not as difficult to charm a woman as you might think. Generally speaking, the only difference between us and them is the desperation to connect, both physically and mentally. Confidence and charm are key factors in seducing the ladies. Remember that."

"I got it. Hey, thanks again man. This really helped."

"Anytime Matty." There was silence on Matt's end, causing Christian to question if there was something else he needed. "Is that it?"

"Uh...actually, I'm kind of having a situation...in my pants. It doesn't want to..."

It took him a moment to realize what Matt was trying to get across. He snickered, "run it under cold water for a few seconds, it should cut off the heat to your genital region...or your money back." A sheepish smile crossed his features.

"Got it. Thanks man, I appreciate it."

"Hey, go get em' killer. Let me know how it goes."

"All right. Bye."

Christian hung up and sighed softly. Pushing up to his feet, he returned the cordless phone to its base and headed back into his living room, praying that he would not have to deal with another mysterious caller. He didn't know if he could control his frustration without lashing out at whoever was on the recieving end. He made a mental note in his head to change his number if push came to shove. If it came to that, Matt would most definitely be the first to know. He already thought of him as his own son, and he felt that it was his duty to be here for him in any way he could. Matt confided in him more than he did his own father, and Christian was not about to complain. Sean's family was his family...at least until he had a one of his own.


	8. The Moment Of Truth

(The Next Day)

Amy strode across the parking lot of the shopping center, her hands shoved into her dark denim flared jeans. The bright afternoon sunlight glared down on her as she headed towards her car. She sighed woefully, wishing that she had money to spend. She had seen so many things she wished she could own, but without a current job, the only thing she could do was look. She was lucky she even had a car. It had been a graduation gift from her mom when she graduated high school. That was the only sentimental thing she could thank the woman for, along with paying the insurance for the last six months. The time would come when she would have to pay for the insurance herself, but as the days went by and the more she argued with her mother, she was dreading it.

Fishing her keys out of her pink lightweight jacket, she unlocked the door on her vehicle and slipped behind the wheel. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a folded up piece of paper. She fixed her eyes on the numbers scrawled on it, chewing on her bottom lip apprehensively. Taking in a deep calming breath, she pulled out her celluar and slowly dialed the number. Her heart pounded in her chest much in the same way it had when she first called the man. It rang once. Twice. A third time. She was ready to hang up when an answering machine picked up.

_"Hi, you've reached Christian Troy. I'm not in right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. If it's that important, you can reach me at the offices of McNamara/Troy. The number is, eight-five-four, two-four-two-four. You know what to do." _

She ended the call before the beep could sound, her brows furrowing in thought. McNamara? Why did that name sound familiar to her? Her jaw dropped as a memory clicked in her mind. Of course! Matt! Matt McNamara. She met him yesterday. Could it be possible that his father was working with _her_ father? There was only one way to find out. Dialing the familiar number of her best friend, she put the celluar back up to her ear. She turned the key into the ignition and started her car as she waited patiently for her friend to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Court! It's me." She looked over her shoulder as she backed out of the parking space and drove out of the lot. "Before you say anything, I need to know one thing."

"Oh-kay. What's that?"

"What do you know about Matt's father?"

"What do you mean? I haven't even met the guy."

"He's never mentioned him to you? Like what the guy does or anything?"

"No. Why?"

"Because I just got up the courage to call that Christian guy again, and apparently, he works at some office with someone with the last name 'McNamara.' Could this be a coincidence or do you think his father is in someway related to..._my_ father?" She bit down on her bottom lip, considering the possibilities.

"Oh my God. I don't know. That's really strange, but it's possible. He _could_ be. Damn, if only he would have invited me over to _his_ house, I wouldn't have had to bring him back to mine last night. I'm just glad my dad wasn't home or he would have killed me."

Her brows furrowed in bewilderment, blinking back her astoundment. "Oh God. Court, please don't tell me you slept with ALREADY. You guys barely started dating! You couldn't have. Please tell me you didn't!"

"So what if I did? What's so wrong with that? We've been going out a week. Ok?"

"A week! You've been going out for a WEEK and you SLEPT WITH HIM LAST NIGHT! Oh God."

"I'm sorry. It just sorta happened. We started making out and things got pretty heated. I couldn't help myself, but if it's any consolation...it wasn't as good as I thought it would be."

Amy cringed as she stopped at a red light. A scoff escaped her. "I can't believe you. Are you really going to end any chance that you and Matt have because he was lousy in bed? You're not a virgin, but you can't just ruin it like that."

"Hey, hey, hey! I didn't say I was ending anything. Matt is a sweetheart. I mean, come on, I'm not that much of a bitch to do that to him. Besides, he makes me smile. If this doesn't end up working out, we could always be friends. So he's not the best in bed. He's only seventeen. Luckily, he's got me around to teach him a thing or two. If you ask me though, there has to be other guys around this city who know how to please a girl."

"Ok, I don't want to hear anymore about it. I have a dillema of my own. What am I going to do about this whole 'McNamara/Troy' thing? Should I try and find out where it is? I mean, if I found out the address, I could go and...oh God! What if he's there? What if this man that's suppose to be my dad is there?" The car behind her honked its horn. She turned her head back to the stop light to see that it had already changed, feeling like a total idiot for not paying attention. Putting her foot to the gas pedal, she drove on.

"Maybe it's time. Maybe you should meet him. You said you called him last night, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have the courage to actually say but like seven words to him. I panicked. Can you imagine what would happen if I went over there now? I'm not prepared. I could be catching him at a bad time. He's probably working. Whatever it is he does, I'm sure I'll just be in the way. In more ways than one." She sighed woefully, not wanting to actually admit to herself that she wanted so badly to see him.

"Ok, but if you don't do it now, what makes you think you'll have the courage to do it later? It's going to keep driving you crazy until you confront it. And really, how much longer can you deal with living there with your bitch of a mother and her loser ass boyfriend? If I were in your position, I'd want to get this over with once and for all. Come on, what's the worst that could happen? So he turns out to be a major asshole and turns you away. You would never have to go back and see him again. Hey, you know what you _could _do?"

She chewed on the inside of her cheek anxiously. "What?"

"Show up, but say you're there to see that McNamara guy. If he's in anyway related to Matt, at least you could say that you're a friend of his. Then you won't have to feel so uncomfortable. And, if by chance this Christian Troy shows himself while you're there...you could at least get an image in your head of what he looks like. You don't actually have to talk to him. Why not do that?"

Amy nodded her head, even though her friend could not see it. "Ok. That sounds like an idea." She exhaled sharply, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. "I'm going to have to come up with an excuse as to why I'm there to see this McNamara guy. Shit. How did I ever get myself into this?"

"Look, just tell him that you're a friend of his and he talks so much about him that you wanted to meet him for yourself. Just a friendly meet-and-greet, no harm done. Do you have your birth certificate with you?"

"Of course I do. I'm not going to leave it at home. If my mom finds it, I can tell she's going to have a nervous breakdown and then probably kick me out of the house or something." She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes shifting back and forth between streets and wondering where in the world she was going. They'd only been living in Miami a month and she still couldn't drive around this city without getting lost...frequently. Sighing in frustration, she decided to pull into the parking lot of a Denny's restaurant until she knew where she was going.

"So, what are you going to do?"

She pulled into a vacant parking space just outside the main entrance, put the car in park, and turned off the engine. Exhaling deeply, she propped her elbow up on her door and leaned her cheek on her hand. "I don't know. I guess I'm going to do it. It's better than sitting at home all day and wasting my time on the computer talking to all those internet dickheads."

"Good point. Well, whatever happens, you _have to_ call me and give me a heads up when you get back."

"You know I will."

"Good luck girl, and just remember, if this guy doesn't want to see you or have anything to do with you, you didn't do a damn thing wrong. He's a prick. You don't need to deal with him if he's like that. Just walk out. I'm just saying...if you decide to talk to him."

A pang shot through her heart at the thought. "Thanks Court. I'll keep that in mind."

"All right. Love you girl."

"You too. Bye." Amy ended the call, took a deep calming breath, grabbed her purse and exited the vehicle. She figured that this business of her father's should be listed in the phone book. It was worth a shot. Stepping up onto the curb, she strode towards the pay phone sitting outside the entrance. The cool afternoon breeze blew a few strands of hair across her face as she reached down and grabbed the phone book. She brushed away the loose strands of hair before opening the thick binder. Flipping the pages rapidly, she stopped on the letter "M" and proceeded to locate the business given to her from Christian's answering machine. Her index finger moved along the column of "Mc" names until her eyes locked on the listing for "McNamara/Troy."

Unzipping her purse, she took out a pad of paper and a pen, and took down the address and phone number with a slightly shaky hand. Exuding a deep sigh, she returned the items to her purse and returned the phone book to where it was. She was ready to get back in her car, but decided she'd try her hand at asking someone who worked in the restaurant. Perhaps they'd know where the place was and make things a little clearer for her.

She stepped inside the crowded and noisy restaurant and up to the front counter. "Excuse me, do you know where I could find the McNamara/Troy business building? Is it close by any chance?"

The lanky and big breasted middle-aged woman behind the counter turned her head in the direction of her voice. Her piercing green eyes fixated on her inqusitively. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. A sheepish smile crept across her thin cherry lips, "McNamara/Troy? Oh yeah. Everyone knows where that place is. The two men that own the business are only the best plastic surgeons in the city."

Her jaw hung open. So her father was a plastic surgeon. Well, she didn't see that coming. The thought excited her that she could have been born into a wealthy family had she been raised by the man. She'd always dreamed of living a life of luxury. Whether it was from her own musical talent or through her parents. She just hoped that this man wouldn't be so self-centered as most rich people were. It took her a moment to find her voice. "Um...is it nearby?"

"Yeah, its not too far from here. Maybe about ten minutes." The woman started to give her directions, but she knew that she would not remember them unless they were written down. She reached into her purse and pulled out the pad of paper and a pen, and asked the woman if she could write them down for her. The woman was nice enough to do it, and after thanking her, she walked out.

Stepping off the curb, she unlocked the driver's side door and slipped back behind the wheel. She chewed on her bottom lip, staring down at the piece of paper in her hand. "Ugh, I hate having to read directions," she muttered to herself. Placing the piece of paper down above the stick shift, she turned the key into the ignition and started the car. She exhaled sharply, "God, what am I getting myself into?"

Turning to look over her shoulder, she backed out of the parking space and drove out of the diminutive lot. She followed the directions as carefully as she could, praying she would know exactly where she was going. Her eyes shifted from right to left as she turned right on north east 38th street, "how are you suppose to know which is west and which is east?" She grumbled.

She jumped on the freeway and got off on the right exit, at least she hoped it was. In only a matter of minutes, she was turning left on South Miami Ave., and a majestic building came into view. A sign sat outside of the building reading: "McNAMARA/TROY." Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pulled into the parking structure beside the building and searched for a parking as close to the building as she could get. There were many vacant spaces so she took the empty space near a black Porsche. Shutting of the engine, she took her purse and set it on her lap, looking over at the building. Her heart pounded anxiously. She unzipped her purse and dropped her keys inside. Her fingers closed around the birth certficate tucked between her make-up and her wallet.

"Ok, I can do this. I'm just there to see this McNamara guy. Not him. That's all." She took in a deep calming breath to ease her heart rate before stealing a quick glance in the mirror. Fishing out her brush from her purse, she began brushing through her soft locks in an attempt to make herself look presentable. She took a few more deep breaths before she got up the courage to exit the vehicle. When she planted her feet on solid ground, she found herself wavering on her heels. A sudden feeling of light headedness passed over her. It had to be an effect from all the oxygen rushing to her brain. Shrugging it off, she squared her shoulders and said a silent prayer in her head before heading up to the building.

Her stomach was in knots. She was already dreading that she would become sick. There was no telling what would happen the minute she saw the man. Even though she was set on making an excuse to see the other doctor, she still could not resist the urge to ask for _him._ She had to come up with a game plan before she stepped inside that office. Her hand closed on the handle of the black door, but she couldn't bring herself to open it.

_Oh, just get a hold of yourself and go in!_ Exhaling sharply, she pulled the door open and stepped inside. Taking a moment to survey her surroundings, she saw the same "McNAMARA/TROY" sign on the wall behind the front desk. A few people, both male and female, were strolling back and forth down the narrow corridor that seperated the offices, all of them clad in medical-type garments. Her heart raced, consideration that any of those men could be her father. She shuffled towards the front desk where a short and trim young woman stood. She couldn't have been more than twenty five years old with straight, shoulder length blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and full lips. The woman looked up from her desk expectantly, "can I help you?"

"Um..." She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to formulate a sentence. "I'm here to see doctor..." Her voice trailed off when a familiar deep voice caught her ears. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned her head in the direction of the voice. A tall, ruggedly handsome man with brown, almost jet black hair, and piercing green eyes stood at the end of the hall. He was bickering rather animatedly with a curly brown haired and full figured woman in royal blue hospital scrubs.

The curly haired woman advanced on the man. "Frankly, the next patient that waltzes into your office might as well be wearing a sign on their back with the words: SEX not SURGERY. Tell me Christian, just how many patients do you have to sleep with until one of them hits you with a lawsuit?"

Her eyes widened in astonishment. It was him. It was her real birth father, Christian Troy. She had to admit, she never thought he would be as handsome as he appeared to be. She scolded herself immediately when feelings of attraction rose up inside her. No! What the hell was she thinking? This man was her _father_! She couldn't have feelings for her father. That was not only gross, but it was illegal. Even so, she still couldn't shake the attraction she felt. Another thought occured to her. If she didn't think of herself as beautiful, she certainly didn't inherit _his_ good looks. She had no idea what her mother looked like, but it was possible that she could pass for a younger version of the woman.

The woman called to her from behind the desk, but she was not paying any attention. She couldn't take her eyes off of the scene unfolding before her. What on earth was this woman was talking about? The horror of her father sleeping with his own patients was not a pretty picture. Either the woman was exaggerating or...it was really the truth.

Christian shifted his weight from one foot to the other, all the while remaining steadfast. "Just how many women do _you _have to sleep with before one of them realizes you're just a bitter lipstick lesbian?"

"Keep talking, Christian. You'll find another one of your precious cars vandalized."

He chuckled in amusement, brushing his royal blue lab coat aside to place his hands on his hips. "You don't have the balls to do something like that."

Amy's eyes grew wider at the new information she was obtaining about him and his fellow co-workers.

"Just keep pushing me. Your patients aren't the only ones who can file a complaint, and if need be, I'll go all the way to the AMA." The woman brushed past Christian and disappeared into a back room.

Christian watched her walk away, an irritable sigh escaping his lips. He turned back around to head into his office when he locked eyes with Amy. His brows furrowed when he saw the astonished and alarmed look on her face. A smug smile crossed his face as his eyes trailed over her figure, from head to toe. His smile grew into a full fledged grin. In the next second, he disappeared into his office and shut the door behind him.

"Excuse me? Hello? Can I actually HELP you?"

Amy brows furrowed inquisitively, wondering if her father had actually been checking her out. That was wrong on so many levels now that she thought about it. She turned her head to see the peevish young woman still standing behind the desk, waiting for her to say something or walk out. "Um..." She swallowed the lump in her throat, still anxious about this whole thing. Now that she had seen the man, she could simply walk out of there...that is, if she really wanted to. However, she knew that there was no turning back now. After all, the man had already seen _her_. "I'm here to see doctor...Dr. Troy."

"Do you have an appointment?"

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. What was she suppose to say? She couldn't lie and tell them she did. That would only lead to her getting thrown out without a moments notice. "Well, no, but it's really important that I see him. I'm...it's urgent."

The young woman picked up a pad of paper and a pen. "Well, if it's that urgent, you can leave a message for him. Would you like to do that?"

Her brows furrowed in thought, "but he's here! I just saw him! It'll only take a minute. I just need to tell him something."

Setting the clipboard down, the girl crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, we get people in here all time who actually _have_ appointments. We've had our share of problems in the past. People who have barged in here without appointments, without consultation, and have endangered not only our physicians, but the patients as well. May I ask what this is about?"

Amy felt a mixture of fury and emotion. She wanted to bitch this girl out, but at the same time, she wanted to cry. Matching the receptionist's posture, she crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I'm not going to be a problem! I just need to see him. Please!"

"Audrey..."

Her breath caught in her throat at the voice. She turned her head to see Christian sauntering over. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when he stepped up beside her and flashed her a warm smile.

He turned to the woman behind the desk, "there's no need to be suspicious of this young woman. I hardly doubt she's going to be a problem." His eyes roamed from Audrey to Amy, giving her a second once over for good measure. He smiled smugly at her before turning back to the young woman behind the desk. "I'll handle her myself."

Amy flinched at his words, suddenly becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. Her heart pounded in her chest the moment the sleeve of his lab coat brushed against her arm. This was going to be harder to break the news to him than she thought. If he was sizing her up now, how was he going to react when she told him he was her daughter? This didn't look promising.

Audrey shook her head, averting her eyes to the work before her. "Whatever you say, Dr. Troy."

Christian turned towards Amy, wrapped an arm around her waist, and lead her in the direction of his office. "Right this way, sweetheart." She swallowed the lump in her throat, allowing him to do so.

He held the door open for her to step into the spacious room. Her stomach knotted up as she entered, wondering what she was in for. Taking a moment, she asessed her surroundings. From the looks of his office, he certainly had fine taste. For a man with such a high paying salary, he sure squandered it on material things. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the door shut behind her. Hastily, she turned around to see him shuffling towards his desk. Or...what could be considered a desk. She waited until he was seated before inching towards him cautiously.

"So, what can I do for you, Miss..." He arched his brows expectantly.

A shaky hand rose up to brush a few loose strands of hair out of her face. "Gellar. A-Amy Gellar."

He smiled delightfully at her. "Ms. Gellar," he started, setting a clipboard down before him. The board held an evaluation sheet on it. He took a red marker from the breast pocket of his lab coat and looked up at her, "are you here for a consultation or..." His eyes fixated on her figure as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "something else? Either way, I think you will be _very_ satisfied with the outcome."

She blinked back her surprise. Was he actually referring to what she thought he was? She slowly shook her head. "Um...no. N-neither. I'm here because..." Her eyes averted to her feet, swallowing another lump in her throat. She chewed on her lip apprehensively.

He dipped his chin to study her face more closely. "Because...what? I can't help you sweetheart unless you tell me exactly what the problem is." He gestured to one of the chairs sitting before the desk. "Please, have a seat."

She was hesitant but did as he insisted and shuffled towards the chairs. She dropped down onto one of them and set her purse on the other. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she refused to look up at him. "I'm here because...I need to tell you something. There's something...you should know."

He sat back in his chair with a smirk. "Really. And what might that be?"

"I'm..." She pursed her lips, holding her emotions at bay. Shfiting uncomfortably in her seat, she gradually lifted her eyes to his. "I'm your..." _Tell him! Just tell him! You'll feel better once you do! _She took in a breath before the words left her mouth. "I'm your daughter."


	9. Conflicts of Interest

The smirk instantly disappeared from Christian's face. His expression was blank. For a minute--that seemed like an eternity--the only thing he could do was stare at her. A million thoughts were running through his head, but none that he wanted to believe were actually true. This had to be a joke. There was no other explaination for it. He couldn't possibly be in the same predicament again. No way in hell. He refused to believe anything until he had some actual proof.

He snapped out of whatever daze he had fallen into and fixed his gaze on her. She watched him cautiously from the chair in front of his desk. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, a chuckle escaping his lips. "What is this? Is this some sort of a sick joke?" He raised his voice with his next words, causing her to jump in fright, "did Sean put you up to this!"

A bewildered expression crossed her face. "What? No! I mean, I don't even know who Sean is. Look, I swear, this isn't a joke. I'm _really_ your daughter. As far as I know anyway." She unzipped her purse to retrieve the birth certificate, but he was already on his feet and heading towards the door.

"All right, that's it. I'm calling security!"

"What!" Her head spun around at the word "security." Jumping up from her chair, she dashed towards him with the birth certificate in her hand. "No! Wait! Don't! Please, just look!" She held up the piece of paper at eye level where he'd see it clearly. "I swear, it's true."

He froze in place when he laid his eyes on the birth certificate, his actual signature scrawled on the line for the father, and a familiar woman's name on the mother's. He snatched the paper from her hands to examine it closer. It was real all right. _She_ was real, and she had the proof. He swallowed the huge lump in his throat. Even though the signature was there as clear as day, he couldn't possibly remember signing it. Suddenly that tugging feeling at his heart made sense. _She_ was the one who had called last night and hung up. Although half of it was starting to make sense, there was a bigger half that still needed to be considered. For instance, recalling back to who Danielle Fuller was, and when exactly this all started.

Amy stood there motionless, watching anxiously as he proceeded to take everything in.

As he gradually lifted his eyes to meet with hers, his heart constricted in his chest. At the same time, his emotions began rising to the surface. Now that he truly had the chance to scrutinize her features, he could see her mother's face in his head, and suddenly, everything began coming back to him. He exhaled sharply, recalling back to what his first initial impression of Amy had been. It made him feel immensely vulgar, even nauseated at the thought of having her in his bed. She was his_ DAUGHTER! _What the hell was the matter with him? If those thoughts had become actions, he could be possibly thrown in jail for molesting his own daughter. His stomach turned the more he thought about it. "Jesus..." Brushing past her, he took one of the plastic cups on his circular table and poured himself a glass of water. He gulped it down instantly, as if trying to cleanse both his body and his mind of the indecent thoughts that still lingered. He trudged back towards his desk, without giving her even one look on his way by.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. After being so quiet for what seemed like forever, she spoke up. "Look, um, if you want me to go...I can go." She held back the tears already welling up in her eyes and began inching towards the door.

His heart constricted in his chest as he watched her inch closer and closer to the door. Her hand was on the knob when finally, he spoke. "Don't go."

She pivoted on her heels and looked over at him, a hint of hope filling her eyes.

He scowled, noticing her eyes looked a bit glossy, as they often did before a person began to cry. "Please...sit down," he told her gently, before he himself dropped back down into his chair. His gaze fixated on the birth certificate that laid on the desk before him.

She was hesitant, but shuffled back to her seat and sat down, placing her purse in the same spot as before. "Honestly, I know that this is probably a shock to you, and you really don't want to deal with me right now. I just wanted to come here and..." Her voice trailed off.

He gently shook his head, raising his eyes to hers. A mixture of fear, pain, and regret filled his gaze. He brought one of his hands up to his forehead and sat back in his chair, feeling a migraine already taking form. "I think you've underestimated yourself, sweetheart. This is _more_ than just a shock." His eyes narrowed on her meek form, "just how long have you known about this?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, her eyes falling to her feet. "I...found out on Monday, but I swear, I didn't know who you were until I got the letter in the mail yesterday. I didn't even want to..." Her voice broke with emotion. "I'm sorry. If you never want to see me again, I'll understand."

"I never said that now, did I?" He had to admit, it would be harder to watch her walk out of that door than if he asked her to stay. He pursed his lips and shifted in his chair, staring at her head on. "I'm going to need some time to process this. You can't just show up here like this and expect me to automatically welcome you with open arms. I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. I'm a plastic surgeon sweetheart, and a very busy one at that."

She gently nodded her head as another tear trickled down her cheek.

He had yet to notice the emotional state she had fallen into. The only concern of his at the moment was keeping his guard up. He could not allow himself to get emotional over this, when there were still important factors that needed to be considered. It might have seemed a bit insensitive at the time, but he was not about to give a part of himself to someone else until he had his facts straight.

His voice took on a casual and slightly spiteful tone. "I'll give you credit, it was a very clever idea to come in here today and claim to be my daughter. The birth certificate is a nice touch." He fingered the piece of paper, his eyes scrutinizing his own signature. "Especially one that _I_ don't even remember signing. I'm afraid I'm going to have to speak to your mother about this, and before we even get to the father/daughter bonding, I'm going to have to ask that a DNA test be run. There's no way in hell I'm about to make the same mistake again."

The tears were already on their way down her cheeks. Dipping his chin to study her face closely, a deep scowl crossed his face when he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. It broke his heart. If this girl was truly his daughter and the DNA test came back positive, he would never forgive himself for hurting her. A pang shot through his heart watching her grieve this way, but he kept his emotions securely stored inside of him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he dropped his eyes to the desk.

Her bottom lip trembled as she sniffled deeply. One of her small hands came up to wipe the tears from her eyes with the tips of her fingers. She gradually nodded her head. "Okay." She took in a deep breath to calm herself before her emotions faded away and all that filled her eyes was vexation. Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, she narrowed her eyes on the man. "But if you don't plan on accepting me back into your life when the test comes back positive, the least you can do is carve yourself off my face. I might not look that much like you, but I can still see some of your features in me. I don't want to be reminded of you everytime I look in the mirror. If you're not going to make an attempt at being my father, I deserve this."

Her words felt like almost a stab to the heart. His eyes trailed over her facial features, noticing that although there were very _few_, she did have similar features to him. Her eyebrows for one thing were broad and seemed to slope down on the ends the way his did, her lips had that same full and alluring quality as his own, her ears seemed to stick out as his tended to do, and even the broadness of her forehead appeared identical to his. There had been a similar case in which a female wanted him to carve off the remains of her abusive father from her face. He had not been the best judge of character at that time, but now that he was on the receiving end of the situation, he was kicking himself for his past mistakes. He sighed woefully, but gently nodded his head at her request. "Fair enough. The DNA test can be done at Dade County. I'll schedule the appointment as soon as this weekend, if not tomorrow. And together, the two of us will go down there and put a lid on all this drama."

She sighed irritably, crossing one leg over the other. "Fine." With a roll of her eyes, she turned her head to look at something else other than his face.

A long moment of silence passed between them.

Christian stopped to wonder exactly what was going on in her head. From what he could tell, she had a sensitive and fragile soul, but one that she rarely seemed to show. She was cloaking her emotions with vexation, much in the same way that he tended to do. If she was really his daughter--which he was almost sure of--she sure inherited more than a few physical features. He couldn't hold back the smirk that crept across his face. "If any kind of a DNA test is going to be done, I'm going to need to get your contact information before we do anything. To notify you of the results." He averted his eyes to the evaluation sheet before him, taking the cap off his pen and looking up at her expectantly.

She scowled warily, but proceeded to give him her address and phone number. "That's my cell phone number. I'm not about to give you my home phone number for obvious reasons. I'm sure you can understand that I'm adopted. After all, I don't really know if I have any _real _parents yet, do I? At least not until this stupid DNA test is done."

He pursed his lips, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Things were getting more interesting by the minute. The more she spoke, the more he could see a part of himself within her. As interesting as he found this information, it still didn't stop the immense feeling of guilt that loomed over his head. "All in good time, sweetheart." He set his pen down and leaned a little closer to her. "And just to let you know, if the DNA test comes back negative...we can pretend this little misunderstanding never happened and both move on with our lives. Sound good to you?" A pang shot through his heart, the mere thought of it too heartbreaking to consider.

She was hesitant but firmly nodded her head. "Yeah." She forced a small smile.

There was a knock on the door just then that startled both of them. He turned his head and told the person on the opposite side of the door they could come in. The door opened and Sean stepped inside.

"Our five o' clock just arrived."

He looked from Sean to Amy then back at Sean. "I'll be there in a minute."

Sean's eyes shifted from his colleague to the young woman across from him. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware you were in a meeting."

Amy's brows furrowed inquisitively at the man who stood before her, as if trying to figure out exactly who he was, besides being his partner. Christian looked from Sean to Amy, "that's all right. We're just about done here anyway. Aren't we?"

She dropped her gaze to her lap, nodding her head gently. "Yeah." A scowl crossed her face as she reached for her purse and pushed up to her feet. She froze when he rose to his feet and offered to escort her out. She hesitated but accepted. Her eyes met with Sean's as she shuffled past him. He sent her a friendly smile just before Christian lead her out of his office.

Christian stole a quick glance at his partner before turning to Amy. "I'll give you call either tomorrow or later tonight, and I'll let you know what time the appointment is. Then from there, we can arrange some kind of meeting."

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, a weary sigh escaping her. "Okay...I guess." She slipped the strap of her purse onto her shoulder just as Sean stepped towards them. Her eyes shifted between the two men, as if deciding on what to do next.

A bewildered expression appeared on Christian's face, wondering why on earth she was still standing there. He exchanged a look with Sean before turning his attention back on her. His brows arched expectantly. "Was there anything else I could help you with?"

"Um..." Her eyes drifted towards Sean who shared the same expression with Christian. "No. Sorry." She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear before turning on her heels and starting off in the opposite direction.

Sean's brow furrowed inquisitively, turning his head to look at his expressionless and somewhat guilt-stricken partner. "Who was that, Christian?"

He sighed deeply, his heart constricting in his chest as he watched the young girl depart. His head throbbed as he tried mercifully to gain control of both his thoughts and emotions. Now was not the time to contemplate exactly what his life would be like if that test came back positive. Part of him was resisting the events to come, while another part was genuinely on the verge of embracing what could become his new destiny.

He turned his head to meet Sean's gaze, not knowing exactly how to begin to explain what he had just plowed into. "Long story. I'm still figuring out what the hell just happened. As soon as I do, I guarantee you'll be the first one to know." He exhaled sharply, "now it's time we help some _real _patients. Let's go." Before Sean could protest, he whirled around on his heels and headed towards his colleague's office.


	10. Secrets and Lies

Courtney Price's back slammed against her bedroom door, her full lips crushed against those of Matt McNamara. Her arms enveloped his neck, bringing him closer to her trim and alluring frame. Her breathing grew rapidly, as she dropped one of her arms from his neck and fiddled with the knob on her door. It was more difficult than she thought with the way Matt's arms seemed to be pulling her towards him. She was pulling him one way whilest he was pulling her the other. This was ridiculous!

She had only known Matt a little over a week, and she loved spending time with him. Especially the kissing, but ever since last night, she couldn't help but feel partially guilty for resisting the urge to do it again. She had always been the beauty queen, ever since high school. Boys wanted her and she in turn wanted them. All she needed was someone who could make her happy and satisfy both her mental and sexual desires. Matt could do this...in a way, but he wasn't an expert from what she could see. He was a bit rusty around the edges when it came to sexual intercourse. That ought to teach her to fool around with a high school junior.

It was a little harsh to be so hard on the boy for not knowing much about sex, but for someone who had had sex at least once before him, she liked to think of herself as a team player. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and encircled his, in an attempt to make him forget about where his hands were. At least for the time being. He seemed to enjoy this because his next initial move was to be closer to her. This gave her the opportunity to turn the knob on her door and urge him inside. He willingly followed her lead and before either of them knew it, they toppled onto her queen-sized, victorian style, black metal bed.

His lips roamed from her lips to leave kisses along the curve of her neck, sucking at the skin gently. She lifted her chin to the ceiling, tilting her head back. A giggle escaped her, loving the feeling of his lips on her skin. One of her hands rested on the nape of his neck while the other was moving along down his back. She shut her eyes, allowing him to move to the skin of her collarbone. A soft moan escaped her, "oh Matt."

She felt his hands slip beneath the fabric of her white tank top, urging it upward in an attempt to rid her of it. She brought her arms up willingly, grinning at him. He broke the contact long enough to slip it off, revealing her white laced bra beneath. He removed his own shirt shortly after. Impatient, she wrapped her arms around his neck and urged him back down. Her heart pounded in her chest as their warm skin molded against one another. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her breathing grew heavy with anticipation. Their lips connected once more in a passionate kiss. Her fingertips caressed the skin of his back as his hands traveled down her hips and fiddled with the top button on her jeans.

Her eyes snapped open the moment she felt him unzipping them. What did he want? That was a stupid question, she knew perfectly well what he wanted. She was going to feel guilty for this later, but she brought one of her hands away from his back and brushed his away from her crouch. She knew immediately he was going to have something to say as soon as she did so.

Matt looked down at her in bewilderment. "Is something wrong?"

She sighed wearily, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Look Matt, I really like you. You're such a great guy. You're sweet, you're funny, and you're cute as hell, but do you think maybe we could slow things down?"

His brows furrowed inquisitively, the discouragement on his face evident. "Sorry. I just...I had a really great time last night. I thought we were connecting."

"Yeah, so did I. We _are_ connecting." I'm such an awful liar, she thought. "I just wouldn't want either of us to get hurt, that's all I'm saying. Maybe we should start taking things slow. I love kissing you, I really do, but maybe we should wait a while until we...do it again. Besides, I wouldn't want my dad to come home and find us in bed. He might not let me see you again." She lifted her head and placed a soft kiss to his lips, hoping he would just drop the subject without an argument and go back to kissing her.

He sighed softly. "Look, I know I may not be the best at all this stuff, but what do _you_ want? What can _I _do to make you happy?"

"Kiss me and stop trying to ruin the moment by getting in my pants," she wanted to say. She knew that would not only ruin the moment, but possibly their relationship as well. He was such a sweetheart right now to be asking her what SHE wanted instead of doing whatever he felt like doing. Any other guy she had known back in high school wouldn't care, they'd do it with her one night, walk out, and tell their buddies how much of a slut she was. Matt was different. He actually had a heart, and she was drawn to him because of it. She smiled softly, her hand brushing back the bangs that fell over his forehead and cupping his cheek. "Kiss me. Just kiss me Matt...everywhere."

A smile played at the corners of his mouth and he instantly obeyed her command, starting at the curve of her neck and traveling down, from the tops of her breasts down to encircle her belly button. She shut her eyes, arching her back off of the mattress and giggling softly as his lips tickled her heated skin. His fingers slipped under the waistband of her jeans, and proceeded to urge them downward. Lifting her head from the mattress, she looked down the length of her body at him. Her brows furrowed in question. Did he not get the message? "What are you doing? I told you I just wanted you to kiss me."

His cheeks flushed in embarassment, a sheepish smile crossing his face. "Sorry." He moved back up, leaving a trail of kisses from her belly button all the way up to the curve of her neck. She sighed wearily, staring up at the ceiling. That guilt that she was feeling only grew. It's not like they'd be doing anything if they were partially naked. They could still be in their underwear and NOT have sex. She was hesitant about it, but maybe it would satisfy his desires. The last thing she wanted was for Matt to get the wrong idea and the next minute, he'd be inside of her. It was a risk she was willing to take in order to keep him around. Her hands moved down to his pants, unbuttoning and slipping them off of him.

He willingly kicked his pants off and this time, he didn't hesitate to rid her of hers. She aided him in doing so, lifting herself off of the mattress and sliding her jeans down the rest of her body. Disreguarding the consequences of her actions, she pushed up to her feet and pressed a kiss to his lips. "One second." She shuffled towards the door, shut it and locked it. She stepped towards him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him madly. He willingly responded, moving to slip off his boxers but she quickly stopped him.

"Hey, didn't I say I wanted to take things slow? Come on, can't you just kiss me and be satisfied? We don't have to rush into this again. If you and I are ever going to have a relationship, we can't rush a thing like sex. Last night..." She sighed sadly, searching for some sort of explaination that would benefit both of them. "We should have waited a little longer. It was too quick."

Matt stared at her in bafflement. "Whoa, wait a minute. Are you saying that what we did last night was a mistake? I thought that was what you wanted. I asked you if you were okay with everything, and you said you were. I don't understand what the problem is. Should I not have...?"

_Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut?_ She asked herself. She shook her head, grasping his hands in hers. "No, I didn't say that. Last night was great, it was. I just think we should wait a while until we do it again." She brought her hands up to press against his chest, gazing up into his eyes. "I should have been more clear on what I wanted last night."

"Look, if that's what you really want, if you want to take things slow, I'm okay with that. All that matters to me is that _you're _happy. We don't have to have sex everytime. I just thought that after last night, you'd be more comfortable with it. I'm sorry if I came on too strong a minute ago."

A smirk crept across her face as she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him into another passionate kiss. Her opposite arm slipped around his waist, inching back on her heels towards the head of her bed and bringing him along with her. Together, they slipped between the sheets and sank into the fluffy mattress. They exchanged a soft smile before their lips met once again, kissing each other tenderly.

This was nice, and it was just the way that Courtney wanted it. Of course she still wanted that guy that knew how to satisfy all of her sexual desires, but Matt had the personality of her perfect guy. There was no way she was going to stray from him now. As she laid there, kissing him softly, she couldn't help but feel conflicted. Her heart was telling her one thing while her mind was telling her another. She wanted to find someone else to satisfy her in bed, but she still wanted a loving boyfriend. Relationships never worked that way. From all the teen magazines she'd read, she knew that would only lead to heartbreak. If she hadn't of slept with him the night before, she wouldn't be so tempted to find a better lover now.

Her left hand ran up and down his backside from beneath the covers. As he opened his mouth wider to deepen the kiss, his hand traveled from her shoulder down to her hip before moving over her backside. Even though this should be pleasing enough for her, she still wanted more. As out of practice as he was in the sexual sense, her hormones were getting restless. She wanted to feel more than his lips and his warm backside. Oh, what the hell. It's not like one more time wouldn't hurt, and she could give him a few pointers if he really need them...which undoubtedly, he would.

Instead of announcing to him that she wanted to do it, she kissed him deeper as her tongue slipped into his mouth and massaged his in a circular motion. That hand that was on his backside slid down until it ran over the fabric covering his butt where she proceeded to give it a squeeze. Breaking the contact their lips had on one another, he stared back at her inquisitively, "whoa! I thought you said..." His voice trailed off, allowing her to put the pieces together.

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "One more time couldn't hurt." _Or could it? Am I that desperate? God, I'm pathetic._ She ignored her nagging inner voice telling her to stop, along with the baffled look on Matt's face and simply brought herself closer. She pushed herself up to a seated position and unhooked her bra. Tossing the garment on the floor, she instantly rolled over onto Matt, straddling him. He looked up at her, the confusion still remaining on his face. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and smiled smugly. "Don't worry, I'll steer you around the curves. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

She leaned in, placing her hands on either sides of his face and kissed him passionately. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. She smiled against his lips the moment she felt the errection in his pants. He responded attentively to her affection, his hands moving over her lower back until he reached the waistband of her thong. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic and slipped it off. She moaned against his lips, her breathing growing rapidly. Her hands slowly roamed from his face, down the heated skin of his chest, and towards his crotch. She was so fixated on getting him naked that she didn't even realize her phone was ringing. As far as she was concerned, it was merely the sirens going off in her head of how heated she was becoming. Her hips moved rhythmically against his torso, back and forth in a dry humping motion.

_"Hey, it's Court. I'm not here right now. Either that or I'm here and just too busy to answer the phone. Whatever. Leave a message...if you love me." _A steady beep sounded before Amy's voice resounded from the speaker of her answering machine. _"Court! It's me. Are you there? Pick up! I really need some support here. I went to see that Christian guy, but everything is just so screwed up. It was a big mistake."_

Courtney's eyes widened at the name "Christian." If she had been right about Matt's father working with the man, there was no way she could even begin to explain all of this drama to him. Getting him involved would probably put their relationship in even more jeopardy. Instinctively, she broke the contact she had with Matt's lips and reached over onto her nightstand to grab her cordless phone.

Matt's brows furrowed inquisitively when they met each other's gaze once again. "Christian?"

"I'm here! I'm here!" Courtney spoke into the phone, cringing at the suspicious look on his face. "Can you hang on a second girl?" Amy was hesitant but comprehended. She held her hand over the phone and looked over at Matt, feigning the best lie she could muster, "he's a guy that goes to our school. Amy's got a big crush on him. She just barely got up the courage to talk to him today." Surprisingly, he bought it.

He nodded his head, forcing a small smile. "Oh."

She gave him a peck on the cheek before pulling the covers back and slipping out of her bed. Shuffling towards the butterfly chair in the far corner of her room, she grabbed her white cotton robe and pulled it on, concealing her naked body. She exchanged a look with Matt, gesturing as if to tell him to give her a moment to take the call. He nodded his head in understanding before she strode towards the door, and stepped out into the hall, leaving him all by his lonesome.

"All right, I'm here. What's up?"

Amy exhaled sharply. "I should have known this was a bad idea. I went to see that Christian guy. You know? My father. Well, when I got there, I was planning on asking for that McNamara guy but then Christian came out of nowhere, and I don't know what happened. He took me in his office and we talked. He seemed like he just..." Her voice broke with emotion.

Courtney's heart broke at the sound of her friend's voice. "What?"

"Like he didn't even care." She broke into tears, "he was rude. Oh God Court, I don't know what to do. I mean, I thought that he was just going to be shocked and learn to accept it, but he said he wants a DNA test to be run to prove I really _am_ his daughter. I HAD the birth certificate but he thought it was a fake!"

She scowled the more she heard, wishing she could say the right thing to make everything better. No one was an expert at giving advice, especially not her. She couldn't possibly relate to what Amy was going through at the moment. Her father was barely around as it was considering his career as a real estate agent. She could, however, relate to the loneliness Amy felt. "It's ok girl. I don't know what to tell you. God, I wish my mom was still alive...maybe she could offer me some advice to give to you. Look, it's just like I told you before. If this guy seems like a major asshole, don't even bother with him. You don't deserve to be feeling like shit all because of some prick who you barely know. I know that he's your biological father, but think about it. What if...what if this guy treats you worse than your adoptive father did? I wouldn't want to take that risk. If I were in your position, I would just walk away from it and get on with my life."

Amy sniffled deeply. "Yeah, but...what if he's not really like that? I mean, yeah, he seemed rude, but maybe he was just denying the inevitable or something. I don't know. I mean, I've seen enough movies and TV shows to know that first impressions aren't always the most accurate, you know? Maybe I should just do this DNA test thing. I don't really want to, but I don't have a choice."

Her brows furrowed in thought. "You _do_ have a choice. You don't _have to _do this. It's not like he's forcing you to. All you have to do is call him up and tell him that you changed your mind, and that you're better off without him."

"No! I can't do that," Amy weeped. "If I do that then he'll think that the whole thing really was a scam. I can't cop-out like that. It'll just make things worse." She sniffled, "maybe the test will come back negative. I mean, it could happen, right? It's a slim to none possibility but maybe this investigator guy made a mistake. Maybe there's another Amy Anne Troy out there."

She glanced back in the direction of her bedroom door, praying that Matt wasn't getting restless for her to return. Then again, he WAS a guy, wasn't he? Once their hormones were raging, it took the jaws of life to pry them off of you. "Maybe. So you're really going to go through with it?"

Amy sighed deeply. "I guess so. Then, either way...if it comes back negative or positive, I could just walk away and tell him this was all a mistake and I..." Her voice broke once again as she began sobbing softly.

"Hey, it's ok. It's going to be all right girl. Just go and get this over with and find out the truth once and for all. It couldn't hurt. Well, unless they draw blood, but it's worth finding out. Oh and hey...if this guy acts anymore of a prick to you, just call me up. If I have to, I'll give him a kick so hard to the nuts that he won't be able to sit down for a month. I got your back, chick."

To her relief, that actually made Amy laugh. "Thanks. Really, that means a lot, but somehow I don't think you'd be able to take him. I mean, if you _saw_ how buff this guy was...he's like as big as a football player or a bodybuilder. One or the other."

She scoffed. "Please. I didn't take a self-defense course and kickboxing class during high school for nothing. He wouldn't be the first football player I've gotten my hands on...so to speak." A light laugh escaped her. "Remember that time in P.E. when Curtis Princler grabbed my ass?"

"Oh yeah. Damn! I can't believe you got suspended just for defending yourself. Our high school was a piece of shit. Sexual harassment should have been a bigger issue than breaking some guy's nose."

"Totally." She stole another glance back at her room, half wanting to go back and half wanting to stay comforting her friend. A weary sigh escaped her. "Listen girl, you know that I care about you, but do you think we could talk later? I have Matt over right now."

"Oh! Yeah...that's ok. How ARE things going between you two anyway? Have you _done_ it again?"

She could already see Amy rolling her eyes at her last question, but laughed for good measure. "Erm...not quite. I'm sort of pacing myself at the moment, hoping by some chance that his skills will improve. God, where does he get his advice on pleasing girls?"

"Probably his dad, but anyway...yeah, I'll just let you go. I'll call you after I've gone through with this whole test thing."

"You better. Good luck."

Amy thanked her and the two girls hung up. A deep sigh escaped Courtney, hoping her friend would survive while she was here trying mercifully to seduce and satisfy Matt at the same time. Turning on her heels, she strode back towards her door and quietly slipped back inside. Matt was still lying in bed with his clothes off, flipping through the latest issue of _Rolling Stone_ magazine. He looked up when he saw her sauntering towards the bed.

"Is everything ok? Is...Amy ok?"

She smiled softly at his question, loving how he always cared. She nodded her head. "Yeah, I talked to her about the whole...Christian situation. She'll be all right."

He nodded, setting the magazine aside and looking from the empty space beside him to her. A sheepish smile crossed his face. "So, where were we?"

Now that Courtney thought about it, she was asking herself the same thing. Where _were_ they? The question was not only a question of what they had been doing the past hour, but also a question of exactly where their relationship was going. Were they honestly boyfriend and girlfriend? As far as she could see, they were more like "friends-with-benefits." That was stupid. They were more than friends at least. The thought of it was giving her a migraine. She considered Matt as her boyfriend already, hoping he thought of her as his girlfriend. So maybe they wouldn't get to actually having sex again, but as she told Amy, she was "pacing" herself. Pacing herself in the sense that she was still searching for that perfect lover.

She untied her robe and slipped it off her shoulders, revealing her stark naked frame. Draping the garment over the metal frame at the end of the bed, she turned to scoop up her bra and thong off the floor. Straightening back up, she looked over at him, a huge feeling of guilt looming over her head. "You know what? I'm hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?" She dropped her eyes to the floor as she stepped into her thong and pulled it back on.

Matt was hesitant, but gradually nodded his head. "Sure, we could do that."

She slipped her arms back through her bra and hooked it in the back. "Okay, well we could go get pizza. Or we could get it delivered. Either way, my dad's not going to be home until later on tonight."

He sighed in frustration, turning his head to look at something else in the room. "It's me, isn't it? Am I that bad at it? Just be straight with me."

_This is driving me crazy_. An irritable sigh escaped her as she bent down to retrieve her jeans. She raised her eyes back to him with a scowl. "I love being near you, Matt. I love how sweet you are. I just--"

"Don't enjoy having sex with me." He turned his head back to meet her dejected gaze. "You know, I'm trying. I'm only seventeen. I been with at least two other girls before you came along, and I know a decent amount of what goes in and what comes out of this. I'm not going to stop seeing you just because we can't have sex. That's not the reason why I'm here. I love spending time with you. If you just want to make-out on ocassion, I'm okay with that, but for God's sakes, you can't keep something like this from me. Look, I'm willing to take things slow for right now, but if you expect me to get any better the next time...we do this, you're going to have to give me some time."

She gently nodded her head. "That's fine with me. I'm sorry for not being up front with you about it. I just didn't want it to ruin things between us." She was a bit surprised that someone of his age had been with TWO girls before her. What were they? High school freshmen? Maybe eighth graders? She had a lot to learn about him, and his past. Including...who the hell was his dad?

"Just as long as you don't leave me for another guy or...girl. I've been the target for being cheated on in my past relationships. I've dealt with my share of shit before, and I'd like to not have to go through that again." He rolled his eyes.

She blinked at his first words. "_Girl_?" She cocked a brow his way. A snicker escaped her as she stepped into her jeans and pulled them back on. "Oh, believe me, I am _not_ and I repeat _not _going to be turning lesbian on you anytime soon, so you don't have to worry. I am one hundred and ten percent straight, thank you very much."

He smirked. "Good to know." He sighed deeply, "don't ask. It's kind of a long story that I'm not too fond of bringing up again. " Kicking off the covers on the bed, he followed her lead and got dressed. "So, pizza?"

She slipped her tank top over her head and looked over at him with a grin. "Sounds like a plan to me."


	11. We Might As Well Be Strangers

**Authors Note:** You will need Keane's album, Hopes and Fears for this chapter to really get the full impact of the scene. If you don't have it, that's all right. If you've heard it before, I'm sure you know how the song goes. If it helps, it was in the movie, "Raise Your Voice" in Scene 16. You could hear it there as well, if you don't have the album or even download it online.

* * *

Amy laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as the sounds of Keane's song, "We Might As Well Be Strangers" drifted out of her stereo speakers. Her heart ached with an isolation she hadn't felt in years, not since her parents got divorced. The feeling felt much like someone was gripping her heart in their bare hands and squeezing the life out of it. The same way it would feel if someone had her by the throat and were cutting off her oxygen. She couldn't believe she was losing her father...again. The pain was twice as worse as it was when her adoptive father left her. She felt disorriented, not being able to comprehend why this was happening. Everything was out of her control. She felt like a tiny child being punished for something they were not responsible for. Their parents having put the blame on them and forced them to stay in their room until they said otherwise.

Her lip trembled with emotion. The tears welled up in her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks. The melancholy lyrics of Keane's track gripped her heart with more anguish than she had began feeling.

_I don't know your face no more_

_Or feel the touch that I adore_

_I don't know your face no more_

_It's just the place I'm looking for_

_We might as well be strangers in another town_

_We might as well be living in a different world_

_We might as well_

_We might as well_

_We might as well_

Her heart constricted in her chest, realizing how fitting the lyrics were to her current situation. She sobbed softly, grabbing the fluffy brown teddy bear beside her and hugging it to her chest. For the past fourty five minutes, she had laid there, trying mercilessly to figure out exactly what went wrong. How could this Christian Troy have been named her father? He surely didn't show the same care or tenderness the way a father should. Maybe he had been that way in the past but grew out of it.

She knew that showing up had been a mistake, but she definitely couldn't go on living the life she was living now. This man had seemed so promising. She had had high hopes about him, and for what? Only for him to disregard her the way he would a piece of trash on the side of a highway? That's exactly what she felt like. The flippant and arrogant way in which he spoke to her made her wish she had never set foot in that office to begin with. She felt uncomfortable the moment she stepped inside, and had tried so hard to put on a brave face when he was speaking to her. Her irritation had replaced her emotions, but it took a great amount of courage to get through it without losing her mind.

_I don't know your thoughts these days_

_We're strangers in an empty space_

_I don't understand your heart_

_It's easier to be apart_

_We might as well be strangers in another town_

_We might as well be strangers in another time_

_We might as well_

_We might as well_

The tears streamed down her cheeks as her body shook with emotion. She hated this man for making her feel this much torment, so much pain that a person could take their own life. There was no way she was going to let that happen. Not because of someone she barely knew anything about. _"If this guy seems like a major asshole, don't even bother with him. You don't deserve to be feeling like shit all because of some prick who you barely know." _Her friend's words echoed back at her in her head. She was right. She had dealt with it once in her life and she was not about to re-live that pain again.

_We might as well be strangers_

_Be strangers_

Burying her face in her pillow, she sobbed loudly. She held the teddy bear closer, praying to a higher power to guide her in the right direction. She knew that going in for that DNA test would not be a total waste of time. There could possibly be a chance that the investigator made a mistake. Maybe she had never been his daughter. It was rare, but it was a possibility. She couldn't believe how screwed up her life was. She never wanted this. After she graduated high school, she had planned on going to college, not so sure about getting a degree, but it was better than staying at home all day with her mom and Chris. Recently, she had decided on obtaining a degree in music only to be hit with _this_. It all felt like a dream. A dream that she wished she could awaken from and get back to her life. She constantly asked herself why she had gone to that investigator in the first place.

_For all I know of you now_

_For all I know of you now_

_For all I know of you now_

_For all I know_

There was a loud knock at her door, her mother's voice following. "Amy! Honey, what's wrong?"

"Go away!" She cried.

The room was quiet as the song ended and the next track came on. She turned her back towards the door and stared out the sliding glass window next to her bed. The sun had already set and dipped into the sea. Darkness was gradually beginning to set in. An orange glow radiated over her meek form. She sniffled, a woeful sigh escaping her. If only she had a boyfriend or had been born into a family with an older brother. She longed for them to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. It was times like these that she wished she had that comforting shoulder to cry on.

Reaching over onto her nightstand, she snatched a tissue from the square kleenex box and wiped the tears from her eyes. She inhaled sharply when her celluar started ringing, playing the tune of Simple Plan's song, "Welcome To My Life." She took hold of the remote for her stereo and lowered the sound. Grabbing her celluar off the nightstand, she checked the caller ID. She swallowed the lump in her throat when she saw the number. It was familiar, but there was no name. She had only two guesses to who it could be. Either it was her adoptive father calling to nag her about letting him back into her life, or...her biological father. Recalling the events of the day, she'd assume it was the latter.

She wasn't exactly in the mood to talk to anyone, especially if it was him, but she didn't really have a choice. Sniffling deeply, she pressed the button to take the call and held the phone to her ear. "What?"

"It's Christian Troy, sweetheart. Do you always answer the phone in that bitter tone?"

Her eyes narrowed at the voice, her heart constricting in her chest at his choice of words. She was tempted to call him an "asshole" but she feared that would only make matters worse. She shifted on the bed, turning her body back towards the window, watching the waves crash against the shore of the beach in the distance. "What do you want?"

"What do I want? Now is that any way to speak to the man who could possibly be your father? For one thing, I never asked you to walk into my office today claiming to be my _daughter_. Fortunately after tomorrow, the two of us can put this melodrama behind us and forget it ever happened."

Her lip quivered with on coming tears, but she held them at bay. "I _had_ a birth certificate! Ok? I had _proof_! Why are you acting this way to me? You don't even know me, and yes, I don't know you, but the least you could do is try being nice to me. That's all I ask."

There was a moment of silence from Christian's end, and for a split second, she actually thought he was going to apologize to her. It didn't happen. His voice continued on in the same impudent tone as before. "I don't think we need to discuss this any further. The only reason I called was to inform you of one thing and one thing only. The DNA test is scheduled for tomorrow at noon. I will be waiting in front of the ER at a quarter to twelve. Try not to be late."

A tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek, her jaw dropping at the word "noon." "Wait! Why noon? Why can't you make it later on in the day?"

"I told you. I'm a plastic surgeon sweetheart, and whether you like it or not, I have business to attend to. I'm not about to waste anymore of my time on something that for all I know could be...a lost cause."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively at his last words. They almost seemed heartfelt. Almost.

He continued when she didn't say anything, that same smug tone returning. "What's wrong sweetheart? Is noon too early for you to wake up on a Saturday?"

She sighed wearily, shifting on the bed to lie flat on her back and stare up at the ceiling. "So what if it is? I'm fully entitled to sleep-in on a Saturday."

"I'm not changing the appointment. It's noon. You either take it or leave it," he paused to take a breath, "but if you plan on changing your mind, you better let me know. Frankly I won't be surprised in the least bit if you do. The truth will come out eventually and when it does, I'm sure you'll think twice about pulling another stunt like this again."

His words felt like a stab to the heart. She felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her entirely. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she hugged her teddy bear tighter to her chest. She buried her face in the furry object, trying mercifully to prevent him from hearing her. Sniffling into the object, she cleared her throat and spoke into the phone. "Fine, I'll be there."

"On time. I'm not waiting more than five minutes after. If you get here any later than that, I'll already be gone."

"Fine!" She cried, the tears welling up in her eyes as she did so.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and just a bit of advice. The next time you answer the phone, it wouldn't kill you to be a little courteous. In the modern day, we answer with a simple 'hello' rather than a bitter 'what?' Just a helpful bit of wisdom on my part."

Her emotions vanished leaving her with irritation. "Whatever, bye." Before the man could bid her his own good-bye, she hung up and tossed her celluar back on the nightstand. She covered her face with her hands, snarling audibly. She fisted clumps of her hair, tugging at it in frustration. There was so much fury inside of her, she wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something...or someone. Why was this man having this effect on her? Why did he have to be such an arrogant prick? Suddenly, that offer from Courtney kicking his nuts in didn't sound half bad. She'd do it herself if she had the courage to actually take the man on.

Pushing herself up to a seated position, she leaned her back against the wood headboard. She shut her eyes, willing herself to take a few calming deep breaths. Suddenly, going in for this DNA test was the last thing she wanted to do. Of course, things could be worse. He could have been threatening and loud-mouthed like her adoptive father. It was impossible for her to believe that there was any good in Christian Troy. However, deep down inside she had a feeling she could be wrong about him. Maybe there was still hope. She questioned that long pause on his end of the phone. What was that all about? Did he start to actually show some sort of emotion. It might be a longshot on her part, but she could have sworn she saw a slight bit of emotion on his face earlier today when she came into his office.

She moved away from the wall and curled up on her bed, a woeful sigh escaping her as the soft and soothing music continued to drift out of her stereo. There was no telling exactly what would happen at the hospital tomorrow. All she could do was believe that a higher power would take care of everything. She wished that for once... God would make things better in her life, not worse. She contemplated the thought as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.


	12. Revelations and Parenting

Christian sat on his king-sized bed flipping through his little black book for the name, Danielle Fuller. At the same time, trying to ignore the sinfulness he felt in his heart. There was no need for him to have been as harsh as he was to Amy, but how was he to know exactly who she was? He couldn't possibly have a daughter. Could he? His defenses were working overtime. It was the only way to protect himself from feeling the anguish he had felt with Wilbur. He was in no position to accept this illusion until he had all the facts straight. Sure, she had waltzed into his office with a birth certificate, but if she was telling the truth, how come he didn't remember signing it? It didn't make any sense to him. He vaguely recalled who this Danielle Fuller woman was. He could see her face when he had laid eyes on Amy. As far as he could remember, she must have been a girl he met back in high school. His memory wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either. There was only one thing to do. Find this woman and get to the bottom of this once and for all.

He just prayed she hadn't moved out of Florida. His brows furrowed in thought, suddenly realizing that he had no record of her in his black book. Why hadn't he gotten her number? Was it possible that he had thrown it out a long time ago? Suddenly, it occured to him. He hadn't started keeping his little black book until college. "Shit!" He cursed at himself, hurling the book at the floor. There was only one other way to get a hold of her. He'd simply call 4-1-1 and request her number. Grabbing his cordless phone from beside his bed, he dialed for information and a minute later, he was being put through to her residence. He swallowed the lump in his throat, mercifully attempting to come up with a game plan about how to approach her on this.

It rang twice before an unfamiliar female answered, rather breathlessly. "Hello?"

He was a bit taken by her voice, wondering what on earth she could have been doing just before she picked up the phone. "Yes, this is Christian Troy. Can I speak to Danielle Fuller?"

"This is she. Wait a minute...Christian _Troy_? Reckless, arrogant, and self-centered Christian Troy?"

It wasn't unexpected that he hadn't recognized her voice when she answered. He imagined she had gone and grown up just as he did. She had to at least be around his age by now. "I haven't changed sweetheart. Well, maybe a little since I've recently come to realize that I HAVE A DAUGHTER!"

There was silence from Danielle's end.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered a moment later.

He pushed himself up to his feet and began pacing at the foot of his bed. "Oh don't play dumb with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

She sighed wearily. "I don't understand. How did you find out!"

"The girl showed up at my office today! I never would have made the connection to you, but there were two reasons why I did. For one, she bared a combined resemblance to both you and I, and two, she had a God damn birth certificate. A birth certificate that _I _don't even remember signing! Now that I think about it, I can't even remember screwing you."

"Well excuse me, Christian. It's not my fault that you were so self-absorbed and lost in your many conquests to remember. You knocked me up over Spring Break! Do you remember that? You and those delinquents you called your friends invited me to a party. A beach house party. A little game of Truth or Dare lead to a dark broom closet where you proceeded to impregnate me. Of course you were probably far too drunk to remember."

He stopped pacing when he heard the words "Spring Break." Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him. At least, enough of what he could recall before he had become intoxicated. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Jesus." He brought one of his hands to his forehead, a migraine beginning to take form. "Why didn't you _tell me_ you were pregnant?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe I was too busy trying to _graduate_ high school, unlike some people I know. Did you honestly think that I was going to come out and tell you? I never saw you as a suitable and responsible father. There was no way you were corrupting my daughter with your reckless, sex-crazed ways. I didn't have the time to raise her on my own. For God's sakes, I was only seventeen years old. I never even _wanted_ a baby until I was married! I've heard too many stories about underage teens getting pregnant. I never realized I would _become_ one, and it's all thanks to _you_."

His heart constricted in his chest as his emotions began rising to the surface. He started to say something but she didn't give him the chance.

"Why didn't I get an abortion? That's what you're going to ask me, aren't you? Well Christian, my mother was a very religious woman. She would not let me kill my own child. Therefore, I was forced to go through my senior year looking like a pot bellied pig. Not that you even noticed. You probably figured I'd sat at home the whole summer stuffing my face, only to gain an extra fifty pounds."

He wavered on his heels, gradually moving to sit at the edge of his bed. Another lump formed in his throat as his heart pounded in his chest. Suddenly, the chance of Amy being his daughter increased from fifty percent to ninety percent. He exhaled sharply, pushing the lump down in his throat before speaking. "Jesus!" He pursed his lips as the tears began welling up in his eyes. He took a breath to calm himself before he put his defenses up. "How do you explain my signature on the birth certificate? If I was never there when you gave birth, how did my God damn signature magically appear on the line of the father? Did you forge it yourself?"

"There's a very logical explaination for that, Christian Troy. Let's go back to when you screwed me in that broom closet. You were drunk off your ass then, weren't you? Well, I used that knowledge to my own benefit and waited until you got wasted again. It was the only way to get your signature on the line of the father, and the _only_ way that you would never remember signing it. I made up some odd-ball story that apparently, you were stupid enough to buy. One month after the baby was born, I immediately put her up for adoption. Now that I think about it, I might have been better off getting a surrogate mother. At least that way, I might have been able to visit my daughter from time to time."

He sat there listening intently, his astoundment and sorrow growing the more he heard. He felt much like a feeble child. This load had been dropped on him before by Gina, but this woman was almost like a clone of Gina. She had definitely changed from the Danielle he knew back in high school. It frustrated him to think that only a couple days ago, he had discovered that Wilbur's father had left the city and taken the only thing he had ever loved with him. Was he going to get a second chance at being a father? Was he going to finally have a family of his own? It was terrifying and heartwarming at the same time. The DNA test might not have seemed so relevant at this point, but being a plastic surgeon, he trusted medical science more than he did this woman's words. If it was between her word and the true results of DNA, he was going to put his faith in the latter.

"Now, does that answer all your questions?" Danielle asked bluntly.

"What am I suppose to do? Do you honestly think I can take care of her myself?"

"I never said you had to take care of her. I'm sure she already has a family of her own. The last time I checked with social services, she had already been given a home. There's no need for you to take care of her. Whatever family she has now will do that just fine. You could either send her away or you could deal with her yourself. If I were this girl, one father would be one too many."

He sighed deeply. "You don't even want to see her? Sooner or later, she's going to ask where her mother is. She wouldn't have gone to so much trouble to find out who her parents were, only to meet her father."

"I wish I could, Christian, but I'm rarely at home. I'm a married woman now, and on top of that, I have a high demanding job. I'm lucky if I get three hours out of the day for myself. I would love to see her, I really would. If I had the time, it might be a possibility...but sadly I don't. You could give her my number at work and I might be able to talk to her, but I can't make any promises."

"She's your child too! You think that I don't have a high demanding job myself? If she's really my daughter, I'll make the time to see her. You at least owe her that, don't you think?"

"Listen slick, I've worked too hard to get to where I am today, no thanks to you. I was lucky enough to graduate high school after carrying a baby. I can't afford to screw things up now. If my husband were to find out about her, I could lose everything."

"What kind of a mother are you? Are you going to give the same negligence to your own children?"

"Well, I'll deal with that when the time arises. You think that you can do any better? For all I know, you're still the sex-crazed, arrogant bastard I knew back in high school. Tell me Christian. Just how many women have you slept with since you knocked me up?"

"Enough to know that you couldn't measure up to half of them. This girl would be better off with me than she would with you. She's not a _toy_, Danielle! You can't pick her up and play with her when you damn well please then throw her out when you get bored. It doesn't work that way!"

"Then what do you expect me to do Christian? Huh? Do you expect me to throw everything away for her? What do you want from me? Look, I did my part in raising her for the first month that she was born. My job is done. Now you could sit there and lecture me about my pathetic mediocre life, because God knows I don't hear enough about it from my family, or you could go about this on your own. You're a big boy now. You don't need a maternal figure in your life."

"Listen you crazy bitch, I'm well past this bull shit. If you don't want to take responsibility for your own child then I pity the next man who tries to knock you up. You can screw your own kid up, but you're not screwing up this one. I'm getting a DNA test run tomorrow, and if this girl truly is my daughter, I'm keeping her far away from you. I don't have to prove to you or anyone else that I'll be a good father. It's more than you can say for yourself. Consider us divorced."

"We were never married asshole."

He scoffed. "Thank God for that." Before she could say anymore, he hung up on her and tossed his cordless phone aside.

A weary sigh escaped him as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. He sat there for a long moment, taking everything in. It still wasn't proven that he was this girl's father...at least not by medical science. He had had his doubts before, but right now, he was feeling more than overwhelmed by the responsibility of being a father again. Could he do it? There was only one way to find out. Sure, he had practice, but this time, he might be in it for the long haul. He didn't put it past him that she might already have a family. It was obvious. If he had to accept the role as an absent uncle, he'd take what he could get.

Ever since she had walked into his office, he had a feeling about her. There was a bit of sorrow in her eyes and on her face, as if she were going through a rough patch in her life. He knew that it hadn't entirely been on account of him. It was almost as if he could read her. Something wasn't right. Could she possibly be unhappy with her current domestic affairs? Every family had it's problems, but if she was his daughter and dealing with something that he had dealt with growing up, he would make absolute certain she would never have to feel that pain ever again.

Pushing up to his feet, he crossed the room to slip on his suit jacket. He figured what he needed right now was a drink. Not a beer. He needed something stronger. A few scotches and he would be able to get his mind off of the situation before him. Grabbing his keys off of the end table near the door, he stepped out into the broad corridor of the apartment building, locking the door behind him. At least he didn't have surgery tomorrow morning. He could go down to the bar and drown out his sorrows with a helping of liquor. Perhaps he'd bring home another young woman and get out his aggression through another sexual act. Yep, a few drinks and another one night stand would remedy his restless and melancholy state. By tomorrow morning, he'd be ready to face the world...in any way shape or form.


	13. The Three Faces of Christian

Amy had been tossing and turning all night, knowing perfectly well that there was no way she was getting out of the DNA test at Dade County this afternoon. She couldn't even recall what time she had eventually fallen asleep, but she was grateful that the sound of her alarm clock woke her up from the nightmare she had been having. It was a dream that she in no way wanted to relive again. Regardless of her anxiety and her fears, she dragged herself out of bed two hours earlier than she would usually get up. She was a night owl and that was the way it had always been, since she finished high school anyway.

After searching through her dresser for something decent to wear, she decided on some black pants, and a sheer pink off-the-shoulders, long sleeved blouse with a keyhole center tie. She wore a matching black camisole beneath the transparent garment. If this outfit qualified as "dressing-up," she certainly wasn't trying to impress anyone but herself. Why would she get dolled up for a man who could careless about her? Once she brushed through her hair, she grabbed her purse and headed out of her room. She made up a white lie that she was going to Courtney's house when her mother questioned her, and was out the door in a flash. Slipping inside her car, she pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the hospital.

Her heart was pounding the whole ten minutes it took to get there, and by the time she pulled into the parking lot in front of the emergency room, a huge feeling of nausea hit her. She swallowed the lump in her throat as her eyes fixed themselves on the man just outside the entrance.

Christian Troy--or should she say, her "potential father"-- leaned against the rail that laid on either sides of the narrow walkway adjacent to the Emergency Room doors. He stood there in what appeared to be an expensive black suit, wearing a red shirt beneath. A couple of the buttons were undone at the top revealing the stunted dark brown hairs on his chest. A pair of red tinted sunglasses hid his eyes from view. Even if she could not see his eyes from the few yards she had parked, she could tell that his patience was wearing thin. It was three minutes to noon when she arrived, but the way in which he kept glancing at his watch made it obvious he was ready to leave.

At least he hadn't seen what car she had been driving the day before. This gave her the opportunity to remain inconspicuous until she exited the vehicle. Taking a deep breath to calm her still pounding heart, she put on a confident face, grabbed her purse and slid out of the car. The early afternoon sunlight cast a radiant glow upon her features. A few loose strands of hair blew into face, tickling the skin around her jaw. She chewed on her bottom lip as she trudged across the parking lot. Her pace quickened when she saw him check his watch again, and almost stopped in her tracks when he turned his head and cast his gaze upon her.

_Oh, just get it over with already. Put an end to this misery. _She exhaled sharply at the smug smile that crossed his face.

"I'm surprised you showed up. I was beginning to think you decided to cop-out."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Let's just get this over with, ok?"

He seemed to hesitate at those words but showed no sign that they effected him. "Fine by me," he smirked. Pushing his strong upper body away from the railing, he lead her through the automatic emergency room doors.

Amy crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes roamed her surroundings. Her stomach knotted up the moment she inhaled the strong disinfectant that filled the spacious room. Numerous patients ranging from eight years old to eighty-two years old, both male and female filled the many rows of plastic chairs that sat on either sides of the unit. Some of them moaned in pain while others remained quiet. An eight year old girl with long blonde hair and wide blue eyes screamed in anguish. She was seated on her mother's lap. The woman tried mercifully to calm her down as she proceeded to sob uncontrollably in her arms. A feeble elderly woman to her right coughed harshly into a kleenex in her shaky and boney right hand.

She cringed at the sights and sounds around her, swallowing the lump in her throat. Wrapping her arms around herself, she moved closer to Christian. She wasn't looking for reassurance. She was only searching for some sort of shelter away from the scene surrounding her. Her eyes traveled up to the man beside her, noticing that _he_ was noticing her. She blinked back her annoyance. "What?"

He shook his head with a forced smile. "Nothing." He leaned towards her, lowering his voice to a tone that only she would hear. "Not too fond of hospitals, are you?"

She took a step back when he leaned towards her. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. There was no way she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. "Why do you care?"

He hesitated at the question. She wasn't sure but she could have sworn she saw a glint of tenderness in his eyes. Maybe it was just her. He slipped his sunglasses off of his eyes, tucking them away in one of the pockets on his jacket. "Well, we want to get this over with, don't we? We can't have you running out of here before the DNA test has even started. Just being practical."

Her brows furrowed in thought at the reassuring smile that followed his words. Was this man actually softening up or was she daydreaming? Exhaling sharply, she leaned her hip against the front desk. A petite and trim hispanic woman in lavender hospital scrubs and a matching stethoscope, appeared in the open doorway a few feet away from the desk.

"May I help you, sir?" The woman inquired, fixing her large brown eyes on Christian.

He flashed the woman a charming smile. "Christian Troy and..." He stole a glance at the restless girl beside him, "Amy Gellar. We have an appointment at noon, for a paternity test."

The woman's eyes left his to roam her surroundings. She leaned down and assessed a clipboard with a list of names. "Ah-ha. Yes, I have you both right here. I'm going to need you to fill out these forms first, and please sign in." She set two boards down on the desk before them, handing a pen to Christian with a friendly smile.

Christian took the pen and filled out the forms necessary. It took him no more than two minutes before he signed himself in. When he finished, he turned and handed the pen to Amy. She hesitated before taking the pen from him and filling out a seperate set of forms. Once that was done, she signed herself in on the line beneath his name. It might not have been relevant at the time, but she couldn't help notice that this man had very nice handwriting. The signature on the birth certificate had been sloppy, appearing as if a child had signed it. Right now, it seemed much more legible and somewhat fancy. Once she was done, she handed the pen back to the woman.

"Right this way," she told them, disappearing through the doorway. A split second later, the door beside the front desk opened up and she stepped outside. She held the door open for them to walk in before her.

Amy exchanged a look with Christian, that nausea returning stronger than ever. She couldn't bring herself to move away from her place near the wall. Her feet simply wouldn't budge. She crossed her arms over her stomach, praying that she would not throw up. Meeting the man's gaze, she noticed the inquisitive but concerned look his face. For a moment, she almost thought that he was going to hug her, but she knew there was no way that he'd do that. He barely knew her.

"You all right?"

She gently nodded her head, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. I'm fine. Let's just do this already." Inhaling deeply, she shuffled towards the open door, taken by complete surprise when Christian allowed her to walk in before him. He had done the same back at his office, but maybe she was wrong about this man. Maybe he was a true gentlemen.

A shiver danced down her spine as the three of them headed down a narrow corridor towards a care facility. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to get warm. Why did hospitals always have to be so cold? Why did they have to have the sickening and pungent aroma that made your stomach turn? If her "father" was a plastic surgeon, she didn't know how he could get use to all of this without feeling sick everyday.

"I hope you're not thinking of backing out _now_."

She turned her head to see Christian had fallen in step beside her. A woeful sigh escaped her, shaking her head. "As much as I wish I could, I know that would probably piss you off if I did." She narrowed her eyes at him, "actually, no, you wouldn't be that pissed off. That's what you expect me to do, right? Cop-out and prove to you that this is all just some scam that I made up for kicks? You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

A smug smile crept across his face, his brows arching in surprise. "Are you always this bitter or is today a special occasion because I'm in attendance?"

She rolled her eyes at his words, "you didn't answer my question. You can't answer a question with a question."

He titled his head to one side, tugging at his suit jacket. "What can I say? I'm an inquisitive person...among other things."

She scoffed, dropping her eyes to the white linolieum floor. "I bet," she mumbled.

The hispanic woman lead them into a curtained out area where a line of gurnies sat against the left wall. Doctors and nurses alike were tending to the sick and injured in different curtains. Others were standing at a huge half-circle desk near the right wall. The desk had multiple stations with flat screen computers, phones, and chart racks among other things. Some were reviewing labs, others were writing in charts while receptionists typed swiftly on the computers. Phones were ringing off-the-hook. None of this particularly bothered Amy, except of course for the sounds behind the curtains. Ventilators, suction machines, EKG monitors with beeps and alarms, and the fast-paced and excited voices of the doctors tending to their patient's immediate needs. In Amy's mind, all of it made for a nightmare come to life.

A curtain was pulled back to reveal an empty gurney. The woman stole a glance at the clipboard in her hand. "All right, if you two wait right here, the nurse will be around to administer the test. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes. If you're willing to wait, the results might even be back in under two hours."

Amy chewed on her bottom lip as she wrapped her arms around her body a little tighter. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she averted her eyes to her feet, wanting to look at anything else but the things around her.

Christian sent the woman a gratuitous smile as he took a seat down on the gurney. "Thanks."

The woman turned on her heels and headed off in the opposite direction, leaving Amy alone with the man. She thought it best not to say another word to Christian until this was all over with. If she attempted to make conversation with him, she had a feeling it would only lead to a verbal disagreement. She had to give this man credit, he could seem smug, charming, and intimidating all at the same time. How did he make a living that way? Had someone actually given him a taste of his own medicine in the past? She had so much to learn about him, but as far as she was concerned...she didn't know if she particularly wanted to find out. Suddenly getting the feeling that someone was watching her, she raised her eyes from the floor and noticed that yet _again_, Christian was watching her. For a split second, she saw a bit of sorrow in his eyes, but it instantly disappeared. A smug expression crossed his face.

Amy sighed irritably, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "What?"

"I was just thinking. You seem to take an instant dislike to hospitals and yet, you were so willing to undergo plastic surgery yesterday in my office. Frankly, I'm surprised." He crossed his arms comfortably over his chest, a brow arching expectantly as if waiting for an explaination.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, rolling her eyes. "Well, if that's what it took to remove the memory of you from my face...I'd do it." She knew perfectly well that that was a lie, but again, she was not going to let him have the satisfaction of being right.

His smug expression vanished as he dropped his eyes to the floor.

Cocking her head to see his face, her eyes widened in astonishment when she noticed the emotion he seemed to be struggling to hold back. Her heart constricted in her chest, hoping upon hope that somehow, he had brought down the wall that he had built around himself to conceal these emotions. It was wishful thinking, but deep down inside, she wanted more than anything for him to hold her...the way only a father could.

Clearing his throat, he brought his eyes back up to meet hers. His eyes narrowed, studying her facial features. "My guess is you haven't been hospitalized since you were a child. Am I right?"

A bewildered expression crossed her face. Was he actually making an attempt to have a decent conversation with her? She tried to find the spitefulness in his voice or even a tad bit of arrogance, but there was no hidden vexation whatsoever. It was a casual question. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to answer it in the same manner. She sighed softly, "actually, never. Well...not since I was born anyway."

This time it was his turn to be bewildered. "Never? You're kidding me."

She shook her head. "No, it's true. I guess the closest I've ever been to being hospitalized is coming in to the Emergency Room. Other times, I just went to the urgent care centers." She watched him absorb this new found information, wishing she knew what was going on in his head right now. Did he think she was a freak? Did he sympathize with her? The expression on his face registered only thought.

"So I guess I'm more of a freak than you thought, huh?" She cocked a brow his way in question. If she wasn't going to get any reaction out of him, she'd simply slip back into the bitter tone she had started out with.

He blinked at the sound of her voice, meeting her gaze. "I never said you were a freak. It just comes as a surprise to me, that's all." The smug smile returned to his face, "look at that. I'm learning more about you by the minute. I think it's obvious where I stand. Hospitals don't bother me at all."

She sighed wearily, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Well duh. You're a plastic surgeon. You could have been a regular doctor. What made you decide to be a _plastic surgeon_?"

"What better way to make a living than to spend your life making people feel better about themselves? Besides the fact that it's a gold mine? Therapy sure as hell isn't going to make a woman go from an A cup to a D in one day. Lucky for me, boob jobs are eighty percent of our clientele. I suppose you could say...it was destiny." He smirked.

Amy nodded her head in understanding, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "Ok, and how exactly do you explain the whole 'sleeping-with-your-patients' scenario?"

The smirk instinctively disappeared from his face. "What makes you think I do?"

She exhaled sharply, her eyes lifting to the ceiling as she pretended to ponder the thought. "Hmm, I don't know. Maybe because I overheard you talking about it." Her gaze came back to rest on his, continuing when she saw the puzzled look on his face. "Yesterday when I came into the building. You were talking to some lady with curly brown hair. Well, actually, it was more like arguing."

He leaned a little closer to her, lowering his tone of voice. His gaze grew cold with his next words, "not that what I do outside of work is any of your business, but I stopped sleeping with patients a long time ago."

She wasn't intimidated by this man in the least bit. Especially after the slightly emotional reaction she had gotten out of him moments ago. She pursed her lips, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Okay, if you say so."

He turned his head away and scoffed. "I don't need your approval or anyone else's for that matter. So, why don't the two of us stop our yapping and wait _quietly _until the nurse comes by?"

Amy didn't have a chance to debate with him because a second later, a nurse appeared from around the curtain. She was a short, Caucasian and full-figured woman with shoulder length light brown hair, piercing brown eyes and thin lips. Just as all the other nurses, she wore lavender colored scrubs along with a black stethoscope. The moment Amy saw the contents on the tray the nurse held in her hands, she began inching back on her heels until her back slammed against the wall. Christian's eyes shifted from the nurse to Amy, his brows furrowing inquisitively at her perturbed behavior. The nurse seemed to be just as baffled as he was.

"Are you ok hon?" The nurse asked her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, looking from the woman to Christian, then back at the woman. "Um...yeah. I just..." She couldn't even begin to explain exactly how frightened she was at that moment.

Christian's eyes darted back to the nurse. "I think what she means to say is she's scared," he gestured to the tray the woman set down on a metal stand, "of needles apparently." He sighed softly, his gaze roaming back to Amy.

Her forehead wrinkled in thought, noticing a look in his eyes she had not seen before. There was a genuine touch of empathy within them. Even the sound of his voice spoke volumes. The smug tone he had used only a moment before the nurse arrived...had vanished. What was this man up to? Did he truly care about her and what she was feeling? Had she not seen what she had earlier, she would have dismissed this altogether but this was different. New. Reassuring. Heartfelt. Her astonishment only grew with what he did next.

He sent her a small smile before turning his attention to the nurse. "No use in forcing her to go first." Shrugging off his suit jacket, he proceeded to roll up his sleeve for the woman. "I'm ready when you are."

The woman smiled softly and wrapped a rubber band tightly around his left arm. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves and began searching for a vein on his arm. Once she found one, she went about preparing the syringe.

Amy stood there motionless, watching as the nurse took a couple pints of his blood. The man took it like a trooper, not even flinching. As paranoid as she was about being next, she couldn't fight the heartwarming feeling that overtook her. She had expected him to make some snide remark about her terror-striken behavior but he hadn't. The thought occured to her that he might have only been doing it to be smug. Either that or a simple momentary act of kindness, such as the gratuitous act of holding a door open for someone. Either way, she appreciated it more than he could imagine.

The nurse finished with him a moment later, taping a cotton ball to his arm with a piece of surgical tape. Both his gaze and the woman's went to an anxious Amy. "All right hon, you're next."

Her stomach knotted up, but she could not bring herself to move over to the gurney. She pushed a huge lump down in her throat, watching as Christian slipped his suit jacket back on. The man scooted down the gurney towards her.

He gave the spot next to him a pat as the nurse waited patiently for her to sit down, "you heard the woman, you're next sweetheart. Come on. If I can do it, you can do it." He smiled smugly.

She brought a shaky hand up to brush a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know if I can. Call me a scaredy-cat or a whoose, I don't care. I just..." She sighed softly, looking him in the eyes. "I hate needles. I'm...I'm terrified, ok? Go ahead, laugh at me." Her gaze fell down to her feet.

"Oh hon, there's nothing to-"

Christian held a hand up to silence the nurse, "excuse me, I think I can handle this." He turned his attention back to Amy, "am I laughing? Come on, one little needle is not going to kill you. As spunky as you appear to be, it comes as a surprise to me that you don't have enough courage to get through this. All it takes is two minutes. How old are you now? Seventeen? A twelve year old has more courage than you."

Her eyes narrowed on him, appalled that he'd think she was younger. "I'm nineteen, for your information. I also forgot to mention the fact that I can't even remember the last time I had a shot. Probably not since I was a kid, and even then...I don't remember it."

He sighed in frustration, his patience wearing thin. "So you're nineteen years old, and you've never had one shot in your life. My God, no wonder you're so high-strung around this stuff. Look, you wanted to get this over with, didn't you?" She was hesitant but nodded. He leaned in a little closer to her, lowering his voice to a tone that only she would hear, "do you want me to hold your hand, sweetheart?"

For a moment, she didn't know if he was being serious or only joking with her. Either way, she was tempted to take that offer. With a roll of her eyes, she said not another word and began inching towards the vacant spot at the end of the gurney. She sighed irritably, pausing when she came to the foot of the cot until finally pushing herself up on it. The nurse exchanged a questioning look with Christian before she lifted the sleeve of Amy's shirt and wrapped a rubber band tightly around her left arm.

"Ow! Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?"

The woman flushed in mortification before apologizing. Christian's brows arched in astonishment at Amy's sudden outburst, "that's quite a mouth you got on you, sweetheart." A smile played at the corners of his lips, watching her intently.

She rolled her eyes at his choice of words. "So I've been told." She tugged at the band around her arm, cringing as it cut off her circulation. Why the hell did they always have to make these things so tight? This seemed to be just as bad as the shot was going to be. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw the nurse preparing the syringe. She wanted to move away. She wanted to do more than move away, she wanted to run out of there, far far away.

The woman turned towards her with the syringe in her hand, ready to stick her. Her body trembled with fright, only anticipating the worst. She turned her head away to put her focus on something else. Then, just when she thought the needle would go in her arm, the man beside her took her hand in his. Her brows furrowed inquisitively, turning her head to meet his intent and tender gaze. She couldn't understand the meaning of his action, but it gave her the bravery she needed at the time. A soft smile crept across her face. She kept her focus on him while the nurse extracted the blood from her arm. Before she knew it, she was finished.

Christian released her hand and smirked. "See, that wasn't so hard after all."

She watched the nurse tape up her arm and nodded her head. "Yeah, I guess not."

The woman disposed of her rubber gloves and turned to the expectant pair on the gurney. "I'm going to send these up to the lab. These results usually take at least a day to get back, but since Dr. Troy here has requested them as soon as possible, it shouldn't take more than two hours. You two are free to wait out in the lobby or you could come back in a few hours if you prefer."

Amy exchanged a look with Christian. Was it possible that he had pulled some strings to get them to the front of the line? He crossed his arms over his chest comfortably, "what? You think I don't have connections?"

She cocked a brow his way, a smirk crossing her face. "I'm not surprised that you do." The nurse picked up the tray with the vials of blood and strode off in the opposite direction, leaving the two of them alone. Amy's legs swung back and forth over the side of the gurney, dropping her gaze to the two-inch heeled, ankle-length, black leather boots that covered her feet. "Um, I know this might not matter to you, but it matters to me," she sighed softly before bringing her eyes back up to meet with his, "thank you...for what you did, holding my hand like that. I really needed it."

He forced a small smile, tilting his head to one side. "Don't mention it."

A weary sigh escaped her as she pulled the sleeve of her blouse down, and hopped off of the gurney. She turned to look at him just as he had rose to his feet. "So...what do we do now? If you want to leave or...you want me to leave, it's fine. I don't care." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, a hint of sadness reflecting in his eyes. He shook his head. "I'm not forcing you to stay. The deed has been done. You could leave or you could stay. It's solely up to you, sweetheart. As for me," he cleared his throat and tugged at his suit jacket, "I'm not leaving until those results are back, and I get some answers...once and for all."

Her heart constricted in her chest, noticing the tersely way in which he spoke his last words. Even though she wanted to turn and walk out of there before he could aggravate her even more, her heart wasn't in it. It discouraged her that this man could go from showing a tiny amount of tenderness to being a total prick a split second later. Who was he kidding? Himself? She crossed her arms firmly over her chest, "I don't have anywhere to be, but I'm not planning on going straight home. As...bored as I might be here, I could wait around too. Besides...I want some answers too."

He sighed irksomely. "Fine, stay." Without another word, he sauntered past her, heading out of the expansive area.

Amy followed behind him, noticing the grin on his face. He was giving the younger and more daintier nurses around him a quick once over as he passed by. If she thought he was a playboy before, she knew it was the truth now. A scoff escaped her as she saw the exchange between him and the nurses. They were like putty in his hands. It was almost as if he had some demonic power that baited a woman and drew her towards him, much in the same way a fish to a hook. As irrelevant as it might be for her to know, she wondered, how many of the women in South Beach had he actually slept with?

Christian stole a glance over his shoulder, apparently having heard her scoff. "Is there a problem sweetheart?"

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "No. No problem at all."

This time, it was his turn to scoff. He slowed his pace until he fell in step with her. "Oh don't play dumb with me. What was that scoff and the eye rolling about? Do you have some sort of problem with me admiring a beautiful woman? You aren't the only young lady around here. Lucky for you, you're with me." He cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably, as if realizing what he had said was a mistake. "For now at least."

She snickered with yet another roll of her eyes. "Should I be flattered by that or just annoyed?"

He stopped in his tracks when they were a few feet away from the exit of the emergency care facility, turning towards her. She had stopped at almost the same time as he did, her brows furrowing inquisitively, wondering what he was up to now. A shiver danced down her spine as the man leaned in and spoke softly in her ear, "I'll let you know...as soon as we get those DNA results back."

Before she even had time to react, he was already on his way out the door. She stood there dumbfounded, not knowing exactly what to make of his last words. They sounded as if they had a double meaning. It made her feel somewhat uneasy the same way she had felt yesterday when she'd first stepped into his office. She couldn't figure this man out. One minute he was curt and arrogant, the next minute he was being what could be considered "curteous," and now he was making advances on her as if she were one of his many conquests she'd suspected he'd had. There were just too many sides to Christian Troy. What would happen in the event that this DNA test came back positive? What side would she see then? Part of her shuddered to think. While another part of her wanted to stick around to find out.


	14. The Importance of Being Christian

Christian glanced at his watch for what seemed like the hundreth time since he and Amy had sat down in the lobby of Dade County. Recalling back to the last fourty five minutes, he was astounded by this young woman's fear of hospitals and all things in accordance with them. She could have fooled him after yesterday when she was so willing to get plastic surgery. It was slightly amusing but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel compassionate towards her. If there was any possibility that she WAS his daughter, he made a commitment to himself that he'd always be here for her, no matter what.

At the moment, he had mixed feelings about Amy. The courteous act he had performed for her moments ago had been of his own free will. He hadn't done it to be smug. Far from it actually. He saw the despair that filled her eyes when she saw those needles, and something inside of him had instinctively took over. Maybe it was his paternal instincts. This was a side of himself he rarely showed to anyone, except of course Sean's kids, Annie and Matt, and of course the one child he had loved most...Wilbur. He didn't know if he'd ever get another chance to become a father. It was a long time coming. Or maybe...just an hour away. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, his heart beginning to pound in his chest.

"So, are you as much of a playboy as I think you are?"

He turned his head to look at Amy, his forehead furrowing in thought as he noticed the manner in which she was sitting. Her right leg was crossed over her left, and her arms were crossed comfortably over her chest. For a moment, he couldn't tell if she was mimicking his own form or if that was truly the way she always sat. Shrugging it off as nothing, he cocked a brow her way. A smug smile crept across his face. "Wouldn't you like to know."

She rolled her eyes at his words. "Well, if you really ARE my dad...pretend I never asked you that."

Now that he thought about it, some of the things that they had said to each other were far from the way a father and daughter would converse. His stomach turned as he recalled his first impression of her. If he found out he was her father, he would never forgive himself for the indecent thoughts he had about her. "Consider it done."

She scoffed as she shifted in her seat, her gaze shifting back to him. "Are you always this talkative?"

The question didn't phase him in the least bit. There was a perfectly good reason why he wasn't so talkative with her. He was never really a talkative person to begin with, no matter who he was conversing with. The only exception to that rule was Sean. "Well, that all depends on who I'm talking to. I haven't exactly known you long enough to carry on hours of long and heated conversations. No hard feelings, sweetheart. Besides, there's only one reason why I'm here today. I think I made that perfectly clear earlier."

With another roll of her eyes, she turned her body away from him and focused her gaze on something else in the extensive hospital lobby. "Whatever."

He was partially tempted to talk to her. There was so much he had to learn about this young girl if she was ever to become his daughter. He was tempted to find out more about her life and where she had come from, besides Danielle Fuller. What were her interests? What did she do for a living? What interesting things, if any, had happened in her past? Did she have any talents? Finding the answers to these questions would be great, but if there was the slightest chance that she was nothing but a fraud, all of this would be a waste of his precious time.

The growing silence was more than a little nerve-wracking. Now that he thought about it, he didn't exactly have to dig as deep as he was tempted to. He could simply make casual conversation, no harm done. If one of them didn't say something soon, he was going to crack. A weary sigh escaped him, "so, you still in high school?"

She turned her head and cocked an inquisitive brow his way. "_College_ actually. I finished high school about three years ago."

He nodded his head. "So you're a college girl. I assume you're majoring in something you can make more than a measly minimum wage in?"

She scoffed and shifted in her seat to face forward. "Definitely. In fact, I'm majoring in music. If I ever become famous, you can be damn sure that I'll probably be making millions of dollars. Probably more than you."

He snickered at her last remark, hardly believing that would happen. Then again, he had yet to see this girl's musical abilities. He might not openly admit it, but if he got to know her long enough, that was something he was intrigued to see. "Well, good luck with that. Call me crazy, but I hardly doubt that'll happen anytime soon. Do you know how much money plastic surgeons make in a year? We're talking about more than a pretty penny. At the very least, two hundred thousand dollars. Now I'm sure that's twice as much than you'd get doing...whatever it is that you can do."

She rolled her eyes dramatically and pursed her lips. "Yeah, ok. Whatever you say."

His eyes narrowed in thought as he studied her face. "What exactly is it that you do that obligates you to make assumptions it will take you far? Play the flute?"

This time it was her eyes that narrowed, but in vexation not thought. "For your information, not that you would care, I sing. I'm a damn good singer actually and everyone says I have an amazing voice. So you never know, I _could_ be famous. Oh, and if I do, please remind me to look elsewhere if I want to get breast implants or a nose job."

So she could sing. He was a bit surprised by this new information. From her radiant beauty, he wouldn't doubt that she had an incredible singing voice. Now he was even more intent on hearing it. Yet again, the thought of her having plastic surgery amused him, but if she was ever to undergo any type of procedure, he highly doubted she'd come to him. He plastered a smug smile on his face. "You couldn't afford my services anyway, sweetheart. Besides, I wouldn't want to be held responsible for a lawsuit if I were to screw up your procedure."

"Good, because I don't trust you anyway."

His brows furrowed at those words. They almost stung in a way. The same way they would if his own daughter said them to him, which, if this test proved positive, she could end up being. He wasn't a person who took any shit from anyone. It was rare that he didn't have a snappy comeback when someone offended him, but this situation was different. Instead of getting confrontational, he simply kept his cool and turned his head away to focus on something else in the room. Anything else.

His gaze fixated on a tall, robust, middle-aged man with light brown hair and brown eyes. A petite young girl with similar features stood before him. She couldn't have been more than seventeen. There was no mistaking that the two were obviously father and daughter. His heart constricted in his chest, noticing the tender exchange between the two. In the next second, the light brown haired man took the girl in his arms in a loving embrace. For a moment, he could almost envison him holding Amy in that way. He pursed his lips to keep his rising emotions at bay. It mystified him that he could turn soft by something as little as this, but deep within his heart, he knew that something big was about to happen. Something that would change his life forever.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Was she talking to him? Did she actually feel sorry for what she had said? Or was she putting on an act? He shifted his gaze away from the father and daughter pair, and put his focus on a painting across the room. The painting was of the New York skyline. He wondered exactly what would prompt someone to put a painting of New York in the city of Miami. Sighing deeply, he uncrossed his legs and rested his arms on those of the chair he was seated in. He took his gaze off of the painting and met her intent and seemingly guilty gaze. "Are you apologizing hoping to score a free tit job in the future, or because you honestly feel sorry for me?"

Amy narrowed her eyes at him, bringing herself an inch closer as if attempting to interogate him. Good luck. "I meant what I said before about going to someone else, but I thought I'd apologize for saying I didn't trust you." Her tone softened, "after what you did back there, taking a needle before me and holding my hand, I can safely say, I trust you more than most people."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, part of his conscious healing from her last words, but it would take a lot more if she expected him to fully let his guard down. "Well don't be expecting a second act. If you knew me well enough by now, you'd come to the realization that my curteousy is a rarity. It's not particularly a side of myself that I happen to show to those whom I know very little about. Unfortunetly, you still seem to fall into that category."

She practically laughed at his remark. "Well color me surprised," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you knew ME well enough by now, you'd come to the realization that my bitchy and opinionated mouth rarely shuts up. So forgive me if I'm not all sugar and spice around you. That's just who I am." She faced forward once again, her left leg bouncing up and down with her growing impatience.

Christian crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "Oh believe me, I've figured that one out on my own. You certainly aren't afraid to speak whatever is on your mind. How does a man deal with a torch such as yourself?"

She fell silent at his words, her gaze falling to her lap in disappointment. "If you're asking if I have a boyfriend, would it come as a surprise to you that I don't even _have_ one?"

"As a matter of fact, it does. I would think that a pretty young lady such as yourself would at least have a few steady boyfriends by now." So she was single with no current love interest. Another new bit of information.

"Uh...a FEW boyfriends? Why would I go out with more than one guy at a time? I'm not some kind of player, like I'm so sure that you are. How many girls have you been with anyway? Twenty? Thirty? Fifty?"

He almost laughed at her assumptions. She had no idea. "It's hard to estimate an exact number, sweetheart. I seem to have lost count after the first hundred."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'm sorry I asked."

He leaned a little closer to her, lowering his tone of voice. "I'm sorry I answered."

Her eyes narrowed in vexation. "Are you mocking me?" She exhaled sharply, uncrossed her arms and legs and turned towards him. "God, do you get some kind of kick out of doing that?"

He exhaled a frustrated sigh. Was she always going to be this defensive with him? It wasn't hard to conceive that this trait existed within both of them. From the beginning, there were so many personality traits and a couple mannerisms he noticed about her that he saw in himself. As the minutes ticked by, his fatherhood was becoming more and more probable. "You asked me a question, I answered. In this day and age, I hardly consider that mocking someone."

"Ugh! That's not what I was referring to. I was talking about..." She grunted, shook her head and turned herself away from him, "forget it!"

"You know, you really should try to loosen up a little more, sweetheart. Go to the spa. Get a swedish massage, a manicure, a pedicure, whatever it is that girls your age do to relax. In fact, I happen to know the perfect place where you can get all of that and possibly a lot more." He reached his hand into the side pocket of his suit jacket and came out with a white card, thrusting it her way. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "You'll thank me for this later."

Her head slowly turned in his direction, her eyes narrowing at the card in his hand. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not exactly the biggest fan of spas."

His brows arched in surprise. A girl who would turn down a spa day? Was that even possible? Most of the ladies that he knew lived at the spa the same way they lived at the gym. Was she from another planet? He doubted it, but it didn't stop his inquisitive mind. "You're kidding me, right?" It was clear from the look on her face that she was actually serious. He shrugged it off and returned the card to his pocket, "all right. Suit yourself. I was only trying to do you a favor."

She scoffed but didn't say another word. Was she giving him the silent treatment or was she ignoring him? He'd go with the latter. He had a feeling that talking wasn't going to get them anywhere. It may kill time, but it might also kill something else. Something that he had no intention of screwing up. If they were going to develop some sort of close relationship, he had to be as cautious about it as possible.

He stole a glance at his watch with a weary sigh. They had at least another half hour left. The two of them sat there in awkward silence. The tension was high. He wished his celluar phone would ring. He could at least get his mind off of the situation for a while if he had someone else to talk to. Someone like Sean. Then again, he didn't know if his colleague was ready to hear about his potential parental dillemas for the second time.

Suddenly, as if the Lord had answered his prayers, a woman's voice came over the loudspeaker. "_Christian Troy to the ER. Christian Troy, please come to the ER_."

Christian stole a glance over at Amy, but she did not give him one look. Scrutinizing what he could see of her features, he could have sworn he saw a tear on her cheek. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could feel his heart constricting in his chest as he gingerly pushed himself up to his feet. He tugged on either side of his suit jacket and squared his shoulders. "I guess this is the moment of truth."

He looked over at her. She didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken. He might not have the ability to read people, but at the moment, he was sure he could read _her_. He sensed anxiousness and sorrow, and it was radiating right in his direction. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke his next words gently, "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere." Without giving her the chance to debate, he turned on his heels and headed off in the opposite direction.

His heart pounded in his chest as he trudged down the broad corridor towards the Emergency Room. His mind wandered aimlessly. A million thoughts raced through his head. Thoughts that he couldn't even begin to process. This was it. He would know once and for all if Amy Gellar was his daughter. He began weighing the alternatives and disadvantages of the results. If the test was positive, he'd finally be able to make up for that void that Wilbur had left in his heart. He'd finally have a family of his own, and a child that would require no such fuss as a newborn baby would. Only the love and support from her father. However, he couldn't imagine what this young woman would be like once the truth had come out. If they couldn't get along now, what would happen once they were declared biological father and daughter?

He couldn't begin to process the possibilites of the results being negative. If they were, these last couple days would have been a complete waste of his time. If she walked out of his life right now, it would take him weeks, maybe months, to get her face out of his head. Of course, he couldn't even fathom that the results were negative. The chances were about five percent. Looking at the facts, there were far too many factors that signified a biological match. He didn't need medical science. He had made his own conclusions.

When he reached the end of the corridor, he turned to the right and stepped inside the Emergency waiting room. He took in a breath to calm his nerves before he shuffled towards the front desk. _Here goes nothing. _The same nurse who had been there almost two hours ago to sign them in was still present. He set both of his masculine hands down on the counter and looked over at her. The woman was filing a few loose portfolios lying on the desk before her. "Excuse me."

The woman turned to look over her shoulder at him, a friendly smile crossing her lips as she took a step towards him. "Ah yes, Christian Troy?"

He nodded his head with a seemingly forced smile. Until he had his answers, a geunine smile was going to be impossible. "That's me. I was called back here. Have the results from the paternity test come back yet?"

She dropped her eyes to the stack of papers on the desk. He waited uneasily as he watched her search the area around her. The woman grabbed a small, golden colored sheet of paper lying on the top of the stack and looked it over. "Yes, I have the results right here." He swallowed the lump in his throat as she set the piece of paper on the counter before him. A reassuring smile crossed the woman's face, "looks like you're a father."

The words did not register with him at first, until he fixed his gaze on the sheet of paper in front of him. Suddenly, the words echoed back at him in his head. Over and over and over again. He should have been expecting this even before he had stepped into the room. His heart thundrered in his chest as he tried to prevent his emotions from taking hold of him. It was true. It was all true. Everything he had heard. Everything he had thought. Almost every physical and psychological characteristic in Amy, was something she had inherited from him. It all made sense. Recalling back to his first impression of her, he swallowed the lump in his throat and cringed. He had almost mistook her as a potential one night stand. He had felt vile before, but right now, he felt sick. Immoral. She was his daughter. Oh my God, she was his daughter! What on earth had he been thinking! Not only was he kicking himself for inappropriate feelings, but for his lack of respect. He had been smug and he had been spiteful. He felt like an asshole. He hadn't felt this overwhelmed with guilt since Gina had announced she was pregnant. There were so many emotions bottled up inside of him at that point, he practically had to grasp the counter to prevent himself from falling over.

"Excuse me, Dr. Troy? Are you ok?"

He snapped out of the daze he had fallen into and looked up, noticing the woman behind the desk staring at him. Concern was written all over her face. He pursed his lips and gently nodded his head. "I'm fine. Thanks." He brought a shaky hand up to his forehead, a migraine already taking form. What was he going to say to his newly found daughter? Would she even accept an apology for his indecent behavior? Or would she walk out on him completely? His heart constricted in his chest the more he thought about it. He had to think of something and soon.

He was ready to head back to the lobby, but stopped short when he turned around. His stomach lurched when he saw the person standing before him. It was none other than...Amy. From the astonished look on her face, it was clear she had heard everything.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. No use bothering to tell her now. The truth had already come out. He wanted to say something to her, but he couldn't possibly think of what. All he could do right now was stare at her. Gazing into her eyes, he was beginning to see her in a different light. This was his daughter, and whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to start treating her with the love and compassion of an endearing father. Maybe he was given a second chance. A second chance to become the father he had tried so hard to be for Wilbur. The fact that she was another gender wasn't going to effect him at all. If this girl had yet to be born, he'd still be preparing for her arrival in the same way a responsible parent would. Maybe she already had parents, but this wasn't going to keep him from being a second father. He'd be an uncle if he had to. He'd done that before.

Amy stammered, attempting to form a sentence. "You...you're my father. M-my _real _father." She stared back at him expectantly.

He scowled at the apprehensive look on her face. It was almost as if she were frightened by him, seeing him as a wild animal that would pounce on her at any moment. His heart constricted in his chest, not having a clue as to how to respond to her words. Keeping his emotions at bay, he gently nodded his head without a word.

She took a tentative step towards him, her eyes never leaving his face. Inhaling deeply, she lightly nodded. "So, you actually believe me now?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he got up the courage to speak. "Yes. I'm-I'm sorry...that I didn't believe you before. I had to make sure this was legitimate."

She crossed her arms over her chest, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip. "So...what now? I mean, where do we go from here?"

He exhaled sharply. His hand came up to rub his forehead, dropping his gaze to the piece of paper he held in his opposite hand. Her guess was as good as his. He gently folded up the sheet of paper and shoved it into the pocket beneath his suit jacket. "I have to go to work." It was the only thought that had come into his head. He didn't know why he had said it. Of course he wanted to spend time with her, but if he was going to be a father to her, he had to take things slow at first. Everything was still sinking in.

"Can I..." She sighed deeply before continuing, "I know I probably shouldn't be asking you this, but do you think I could...come with you? I really don't want to go back home right now. My mom's boyfriend's parents are there and I really don't want to see them." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

Her parents were divorced, and her mother had a boyfriend. That was another piece to the Amy Gellar puzzle. Or should he consider her a Troy? Amy Troy. The name didn't have such a nice ring to it as her adoptive name. What could he call her? Amy Gellar-Troy? For the time being, he'd just stick with "Amy." What father in their right mind called his daughter by her first AND last name? Another thought occured to him. If her parents were divorced and she lived with her mother, had her adoptive father been abusive to her in any way shape or form? If that were the case, he'd never let that happen again. Not as long as she was his daughter. He'd been through it himself and he would not let it happen to his own child. Ever.

"Forget I asked."

Snapping out of his thoughts, he realized that Amy was talking to him. "No. I'm sorry." Did he want to bring her along? He didn't know if that would be such a good idea. How on earth would he explain her to Sean and the rest of his co-workers? The last time she was there, his colleague got suspicious. The time would come when he'd have to tell him, but he didn't know if now was appropriate. Either way, if she wanted to be near him, in the hopes of spending some kind of father/daughter time, he was not going to turn it down. Looking up, he noticed that she was already on her way out of the emergency room. He didn't hesitate to dash after her. "Wait!"

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of his voice and turned back around, planting her hands on her hips. "What? Look, it's fine. You don't want me to go with you, I can take a hint. I imagine that being seen with your own daughter has got to be a reputation killer. How the hell are you going to explain me to your co-workers?"

Was she a mind reader? Her intuitiveness might have been a trait from her mother. Probably not from him. "I don't mind you coming along. Just as long as you don't get yourself into mischief. I _do_ have a job to do. I don't want to be worrying about what you're doing in my absence."

She cocked an inquisitive brow his way. "I'm not going to get into any trouble so you don't have to worry. I'd go to the mall to look around for a couple hours, but I don't have any money to spend, and window shopping isn't as exciting as having money in your pocket."

No money? This time, it was HE who got inquisitive. His brows furrowed. "I'm guessing you're un-employed."

A woeful sigh escaped her. "Unfortunetly, yes."

He took another step towards her, sending a sympathetic smile her way. If this were any other situation, and she were a friend instead of his daughter, he would toss a fifty dollar bill her way just to get her out of his hair. However, this was a different situation entirely. He actually wanted to be in her presence. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her. "Well, you're more than welcome to come along. I have to warn you though, it could get pretty boring. I have to work, sweetheart. We might not have much time to chat."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's ok. I'll find something to do."

He didn't have such a good feeling about this after all. He didn't want to find her tinkering around in one of the exam rooms breaking expensive equipment. What was he thinking? Of course she wouldn't do that. She seemed mature and responsible enough to know right from wrong. If she hated him that much, he wouldn't put it past him. She might be capable of doing something like that. However, his instincts told him it was probably all in his subconscious mind.

Nodding his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. "I assume you came here in your own car."

Amy nodded her head, stealing a glance in the direction of the parking lot. "Yeah. My car is over there," she pointed.

"All right. I'll meet you there." He turned on his heels to start off towards his car, but her voice stopped him.

"Da-Christian?"

That was the first time she had ever said his name. He wasn't that effected by it, but now that he thought about it, perhaps "dad" might have been more suitable. His heart jumped in his chest, knowing she had been on the brink of calling him "dad" but stopped herself. No one had ever called him "dad" before. It felt weird, but only because it was so new to him. Sure, he had been a father, but he hadn't been with Wilbur long enough for the child to call him that. He didn't know exactly how he would have responded if she'd actually said it. Then again, he didn't know if he felt comfortable with his own daughter calling him by his first name either. It would have to do...for now anyway.

"Yes?"

She hesitated before stepping towards him. The next thing he knew, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him in a loving embrace. Much in the same way he had seen that father/daughter couple hold each other in the lobby. He hadn't expected this at all, but it felt good. It felt right. It made him feel whole, much in a way he never thought he would feel again. His emotions began rising to the surface, as he soon found his own arms enveloping her petite frame. He rested his chin on top of her head, a soft sigh escaping him. As much as he wanted to keep his emotions in check, he couldn't prevent the single tear from rolling down his cheek. Feeling her tremble in his arms, it only made him bring her closer. Ever since he envisioned becoming a father, nothing could make him feel more complete than to hold his own child in his arms. This was no exception.

A moment later--that felt more like an eternity--Amy pulled back with a sniffle. He didn't notice the tears in her eyes until she looked up at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart going out to her. Neither one of them could speak a word to each other. All they could do was stand there half a foot apart, gazing back into the other's eyes. Both of them were timid about how the other might feel about this exchange of affection. Christian had no idea why she had chosen to hug him, but he didn't care. He wouldn't pull back if she chose to do it again.

Amy wiped a stray tear from her eye with another sniffle. "I'm sorry. Should I not have...? Did I make you feel uncomfortable doing that?"

He shook his head. "No. Not at all. You don't have to apologize for anything."

She nodded, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face. A deep sigh escaped her. "So I guess...we should go, huh? You gotta work, right?"

He gave her a solemn nod of his head, fiddling with the keys in his hand. "Yes. I'll uh...I'll meet you there." She nodded in approval. He gave her a small smile, pivoted on his heels and strolled towards his vehicle.

His heart still beat a little faster in his chest at the hug she had given him. It was more a feeling of anticipation than panic. Anticipation of the parental duties he would once again be performing. This girl already had a family. He knew that, but nothing was going to stop him from spending time with his daughter. If her negligent biological mother wasn't going to show her any love or affection, by God he'd be a far better parent than her. He never thought the Lord would give him a second chance at fatherhood. After Wilbur had been taken away from him, he thought it would be years until he had his own family...until now.

Slipping behind the wheel of his silver Porsche, he turned the key into the ignition and started the car. He had a daughter. He couldn't believe it. He had a daughter! This was merely the beginning for Christian Troy.


	15. Wrong Impressions

A couple tears rolled down Amy's cheeks as she drove towards the McNamara/Troy offices. She couldn't believe that she had gotten up the courage to hug Christian. Or should she say, her _father_. The news shouldn't have come as much of a shock to her since she had discovered it before the man did, but the truth was still sinking in. Everything was legit. He believed her now. Things were definitely going to change in both of their lives. It was a surprise that the man hadn't pulled back when she hugged him, but it had been on instinct. After all she had been through with her mother and Chris, she needed someone to hold her. She needed to feel loved. Sheltered. Wanted. She knew there was a lot she still had to learn about Christian Troy, but as far as she was concerned, she'd much rather have him as her legal parent than Teresa Gellar.

She didn't know if she'd admit it to him, but while they were sitting in the lobby, she had her doubts. His arrogance and spitefulness was sickening and hurtful at the same time. She had been tempted to get up and walk out of there all together, without looking back, but something inside her heart told her she should stay. This man was definitely a hard one to figure out. Would she ever be able to tell his arrogance from his benevolence? Only time would tell.

The sounds of Aimee Mann's tune, "This Is How It Goes" radiated throughout her car as she drove down the road. Normally, her gaze would be shifting back and forth between the scenery that occupied either sides of the streets she drove down, but today, her gaze was fixated on the black porsche in front of her. Preferably, the man who was driving it. She had sat in her car and watched him drive out of the hospital parking lot before tentatively pulling onto the road behind him. It didn't come as a surprise to her that Christian Troy owned a porsche. As wealthy of a man as he was, she stopped to wonder, exactly how many cars _did_ he have?

Even though she had been here the day before, she still couldn't control the butterflies that formed in her stomach when she pulled her car into the parking structure of the McNamara/Troy establishment. Her heart skipped a beat when Christian stole a glance in his rearview mirror, almost as if he were making sure that she were still following him. She had been obligated to follow him anyway, after having misplaced the directions from the previous day. She could have sworn she had left them in her car, but clearly, she had been wrong. Waiting rather impatiently for him to pull into a parking space, she preoccupied herself with browsing through the tracks on her CD. By the time she looked up, she noticed that he had already parked and exited his vehicle. She cursed at herself--hoping she hadn't frustrated him in waiting for her--and pulled into the empty space beside his car.

She shut off the engine, swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, grabbed her purse, and exited the car. Turning around, she saw him remove his sunglasses and shove them into his pocket before their eyes met. Things were still awkward between them. She could tell he was still adjusting to the situation at hand, but tried as she might to remain cool and collected.

"Did you lose your directions, sweetheart?"

It was a casual question, but something about the smug smile on his face made her think otherwise. A weary sigh escaped her, nodding her head. "Yeah, I guess I did. I wasn't stalking you, if that's what you thought I was doing."

He smirked, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lead her towards the front of the building. "Whatever would give you that idea? I assumed you merely lost your way."

She was a little suprised by his action, seeing as how he hadn't made any physical contact with her since he offered to hold her hand at the hospital. Sure she had hugged him, but that was of her own intention, not his. Crossing her arms comfortably over her chest, her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. The short time it took them to reach the door of the building, neither one of them said another word to each other. She had hesitated about asking him if she could come with him to work. After what had happened the last time she showed up, she was fretful of what might happen this time around. She did not expect him to openly announce to his co-workers that she was in fact his daughter. That would be wishful thinking. It didn't matter to her. The only approval she wanted was his.

It wasn't as unexpected as before when he opened the door for her. In fact, she was beginning to get use to it. She sent him a small smile before stepping inside the building. He followed in after her. Taking a brief look around the waiting room, she noticed that there was only one person waiting to be seen. A stunning and trim young hispanic woman. She sat comfortably on one of the white leather loveseats against the wall. She looked to be in her early twenties with long dark brown hair and wide brown eyes. Her ample breasts peeked out from beneath the navy blue V-neck blouse she was wearing. Her silk black skirt was short enough that if she uncrossed her sculptured and tanned legs, it would be easy to see her underwear.

Amy's gaze shifted to Christian, who was already admiring the young woman with an intent eye. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. The idea of her father checking out other women in front of her made her cringe. She didn't even want to imagine what was going on in his head. It would surely make her want to heave. She cleared her throat to alert him that she was still there. "Uh...da-Christian?"

He peeled his gaze off of the stunning brunette and turned his head back to her, a soft sigh escaping him. "What is it?"

"Um, where am I going to stay while you're...working?"

Before Christian could reply, a familiar looking woman with long, curly brown hair appeared from one of the back rooms and strolled over to the two of them. The same woman she saw him bickering with a couple days ago. "Christian, better late than never. Mrs. Grubman has been requesting you give her a minute of your time as soon as you...how was it she put it? Ah yes, pull yourself away from whatever big breasted bimbo you've found yourself under."

Amy's eyes widened at the woman's words. Her jaw hung open partly as she looked between her father and the woman. Who was Mrs. Grubman? She wasn't so sure she wanted to know.

Christian exchanged a look with Amy before meeting the woman's peevish gaze. He seemed to bite back his frustration. "I'll be right there." The woman looked from Christian to Amy then back to Christian, inquisitiveness crossing her face. A weary sigh escaped him as he looked between Amy and her. "Liz? Amy. Amy? Liz."

Liz gave her a friendly smile. "Hello Amy."

Christian cleared his throat and squared his shoulders before looking down at Amy. "I'll be right back. You can wait here in the lobby or if you prefer, you can wait in my office. I shouldn't be long."

She nodded her head and watched him stride past Liz towards the back room she had appeared from moments ago, noticing the long lingering looks they gave each other as they crossed paths. Were they involved? She couldn't be sure. It might not be something she'd ever say outloud, but this woman didn't exactly seem like the type his eyes would be drawn to. Besides, didn't he say she was a lesbian the first time she had seen them conversing?

There was a brief moment of silence between her and Liz, as if they were waiting for the other one to say something. Then, before she could even prevent the words from leaving her mouth, Amy spoke up. "Um, are you and Christian...?" Her voice trailed off, allowing the woman to figure out where she was going with that sentence.

Liz almost laughed at her question. "Oh no, honey. I am not, nor have I ever been involved with that man. I'm fully obligated to my own sexuality. Any relationship that Christian and I have is strictly business related."

She nodded in understanding, feeling like an idiot for even asking. "Oh ok. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I know I don't know you...much, but I couldn't help but ask. I'm sorry."

Liz shook her head. "No need to apologize. You're not the first one to mistake the love/hate relationship that Christian and I share." Amy laughed nervously. She practically flinched at the woman's next words. "Forgive me for being rude, honey, but you're a lot younger than most of the women he brings to the office."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. What was she getting at? Did she actually think she was his latest conquest? The thought repulsed her. "Oh! No, I'm not..." She shook her head stiffly. "No. If you think that we're...well, you know. We're not. I'm his..." She stopped herself from going any further, debating whether or not she should tell her the truth. This man might get irritated with her if she did so without his consent. As much as she was tempted to tell her, she knew she couldn't. Not until he gave her the okay. "Friend. Not a girlfriend."

From the amused smile on the woman's face, she knew that she was not buying that. "I see. Well, just a friendly warning. Christian doesn't exactly have a reputation for long-term commitments. If you two are involved in any way, I wouldn't get too attached to him. Girls your age have a tendency for getting hurt."

Amy sighed wearily, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "I already figured that out, but I swear to God, we're not having sex or even dating. I mean, I'm way too young for him to even..." Her words trailed off when she saw the intent look on Liz's face. A lump formed in her throat. Exactly how _old_ or _young_ had the women been that he'd slept with? Her stomach lurched at the possibilities. She couldn't even begin to process it. "Oh," she finally said.

"If I were you honey, I'd walk away from it right now before you get in over your head."

She scowled, dropping her gaze to her feet. "Well, I don't really think he's as bad as people say he is. He's...different. At least a little bit. I don't know. I haven't really know him that long. All I know is, he's not all arrogant and inconsiderate."

"Right, but the face that he might have shown you is entirely different from the face he shows to everyone else. There are many sides to Christian. All I'm saying is that you should think twice about going any further with him."

This woman was simply not getting the bigger picture. It frustrated her so much that she wanted to shout to the whole world that she was his daughter. That is...if her father wasn't in the office. She sighed irritably. "I'm not sleeping with him! We're not involved." Her voice was loud enough that everyone in the lobby turned their heads in her direction, watching the scene with inquisitive eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and averted her eyes to the floor. Shit. What had she done now?

Liz's eyes shifted from her to the other occupants in the room and then back to her. "There's no need to draw attention to yourself honey. I think you made your point perfectly clear."

She slowly lifted her eyes back up to the woman, hoping to God that Christian wouldn't walk out and scold her for her sudden outburst. The thought occured to her, but the last thing she wanted was to suffer those consequences. A weary sigh escaped her. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to be seen as one of his conquests. You have no idea how inappropriate that is to me. It's wrong in so many ways. He's..." She shook her head. "It's just wrong."

A smile played at the corners of Liz's mouth. "Well, I think you might be one of the first women to ever turn down Christian Troy. Frankly, he seems to think he's got everyone wrapped around his finger, but clearly, you've got your head in the right place. I like you already."

A light laugh escaped her. "Thanks...Liz." She began inching towards Christian's office. "I think I'm going to go and wait in his office. It was nice meeting you."

"The feeling is mutual."

Amy's eyes scanned over the silver name plates on the doors that laid on either sides of the hall. She stopped at the first door on the left, the name plate reading:

_Dr. Christian Troy _

_M.D., F.A.C.S._

Turning the knob, she slipped inside the room and surveyed her surroundings. Everything looked the same as it did the last time she was there. Strolling over to the two white wing chairs across the room, she collapsed into one of them with a weary sigh. Being here was better than being at home. Sure, things were a little weird and awkward but she could adjust to that in time. She began rocking from side to side in boredom, her thoughts drifting to the encounter she had had with Liz. There was a perfectly logical reason for her to feel uncomfortable with the reference to being one of Christian's one night stands. Maybe she had over-reacted in her outburst. However, she couldn't imagine having to explain herself to every one of his co-workers. If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to.

Her eyes shifted towards the objects and other posh-looking furniture in the room. She was slightly tempted to do a little more investigating and look through his things, but her conscience wasn't in it. Of course she was curious as every other daughter would be about her father. Then again, she couldn't run the risk of him catching her and questioning her motives.

She could take a guess as to what she'd find in his office drawers. Most likely a box full of latex condoms, possibly lubricant, among other sex related objects that he kept hidden from his colleagues. A scoff escaped her at the thought. She wondered if she'd ever get the chance to see more than his office. Would she ever get to see his home? If so, what did it look like? What were the color schemes? What kinds of food did he eat? What--

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened and a familiar looking man stepped inside. The same man she had come into contact with the last time she was here.

His eyes fixed themselves on Christian's desk, almost as if he thought he'd be sitting there. "Christian? Did you schedule--" Realizing he was not there, his eyes roamed to the opposite side of the room where he met Amy's gaze. "Oh. I'm sorry, I was looking for Christian."

She gave him a small smile. "It's ok. I think he went to go help somebody named Mrs. Grubman." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

He nodded his head. "Of course, why didn't I think of that?" He sent her a friendly smile, starting out of the office. He stopped short and turned his attention back to her. Her brows furrowing in question. "I'm sorry. Have we met before? Weren't you here a few days ago?"

A nervous laugh escaped her. "Yeah, we sort of met. I didn't get your name though. I'm Amy Tr-Gellar." Her eyes widened when she realized that she had almost said "Troy." She had almost called Christian "Dad" and now this? What was happening to her? Was she losing her mind? She needed to stick to keeping things under wraps. At least for now.

He shuffled towards her and extended his hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you, Amy. I'm Dr. Sean McNamara." He sent her a friendly smile.

Her brows arched in surprise at his last name. She knew her instincts had been right the first time she laid eyes on him. "Sorry, did you say McNamara?" He nodded his head. "You're Matt's dad, aren't you?"

Sean smirked, his brows arching expectantly. "Yes, I am. Are you a friend of his?"

She shrugged her shoulders with a nod. "Sort of. Actually, he's a friend of a friend of a friend." She laughed lightly. "My best friend, Courtney, knows him through her friend Gretchen."

He nodded in understanding. "Ah yes, Gretchen. I assume you're referring to Gretchen Stentson, John and Sophie's daughter. She's my niece, such a sweet girl. A little rebellious at times." He smiled sheepishly.

Amy giggled. "Yeah. I don't know her that well, but I just met Matt a day ago. He never told me his dad was a plastic surgeon or should I say, one of the best in the city. I mean, from what I heard anyway." She smirked.

Sean's cheeks flushed, glancing down at his feet. "Well, I don't run this business alone. I couldn't do what I'm doing without my partner, Christian Troy, but I assume you already met him."

She chewed on her bottom lip apprehensively, fiddling with her fingers absentmindedly. "Erm, yeah. I haven't really know him that long either, but already...I feel like I've known him all my life." After the words had left her mouth, she wondered if she should have said them at all. She cringed when she saw the questioning look on Sean's face. "I mean..." She sighed softly, "I don't really know how to explain it."

"Are you a patient? A friend?" His brows furrowed and then arched expectantly, as if he wanted to say more but was holding back.

"Um..." Her gazed drifted downward, staring at her lap. She pursed her lips, her emotions beginning to rise to the surface. There was no reason why she should be getting emotional over this again. The truth had come out. It was done. Maybe it was Christian's hesitancy which was causing her pessimistic feelings. The thoughts still lingered in her head. What if he turned his back on her at any given moment and left her alone? All of this could be over in a split second if she wasn't careful. No. She couldn't think that way. Everything would be fine. This was all in her head.

"Are you all right?"

A tear managed to escape the corner of her eye, but she quickly brushed it away before he could see it. A deep sigh escaped her before she looked up and nodded her head. "Yeah, sorry." She took in a breath to compose herself and rested her head against the chair. Should she tell him or should she lie the same way she lied to Liz? She swallowed the lump in her throat. If he was Christian's partner, she had a feeling he'd find out sooner rather than later. How long could he keep this from his colleague anyway? "It's kind of hard to explain exactly what I am...to Christian."

Sean placed his hands on his hips, his inquisitiveness growing. "Why is that? That is, if you don't mind me asking."

"Well, it's because..." Her voice trailed off, trying mercilessly to feign some kind of lie before this man made his own assumptions the way Liz had. The words were about to escape her lips when a familiar voice sounded over Sean's shoulder.

"She's my daughter."

Both Sean and Amy turned their heads in the direction of the voice to see Christian standing in the doorway. His eyes shifted between the two of them. A hint of emotion reflected in his eyes as she met his gaze. He managed to send her a small smile before strutting in her direction, exchanging a look with Sean as he passed him.

Sean's expression transformed from bewilderment to astonishment and back to bewilderment. His forehead wrinkled in thought, shaking his head. "I don't understand."

She looked up at Christian when he stopped and stood next to her, hoping that he would explain things so she would no longer have to. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she crossed her right leg over the left and crossed her arms over her chest.

Christian exchanged a look with Amy before looking over at his partner. He sighed softly. "It's a long story that I can't even begin to explain, but it's the truth." He glanced down at Amy, pursing his lips. Almost as if he were trying to hold in his emotions. "Amy is my daughter. The evidence has recently been brought to my attention, from a number of sources, and a paternity test was all I needed to put my assumptions to rest. As hard as it may be to believe, it looks like I'm a father again."

She blinked back her astonishment at the word "again." What was he talking about? Again? Did he have another child before her? Was there something he hadn't told her? Her heart constricted in her chest at the thought. There was still so much she needed to know about him, but this news was far from confusing.

Sean looked from Christian to Amy then back to Christian. For a moment, it looked as though he were trying to process what new information had been given to him. Finally, he gently nodded his head in understanding, giving his colleague a small smile. "That's great."

Christian sighed wearily and looked down at her, a scowl crossing his face. She could tell he sensed what she was feeling and the questions she had in her mind for him. "Would you excuse us for a minute?" Without giving her a chance to reply, he headed towards the door.

She was not about to let him get away so fast without an explaination. The minute he started for the door, she was up on her feet in an instant. "Wait! Christian?" Her heart constricted in her chest once again, noticing a bit of frustration on his face when he stopped and turned around. She stole a glance at a still inquisitive Sean.

Christian lowered his voice to a tone that only she would hear, his gaze softening slightly as he met eyes with her. "What is it?"

She kept her voice at the same tone. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she prayed he wouldn't snap at her for questioning him on this. "What exactly did you mean when you said 'again?' Was there another..." She scowled and dropped her gaze to her feet, not having the courage to finish that sentence. She shook her head. "Nevermind, I shouldn't have asked." Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she felt him place his hands gently on her shoulders.

"That, again, is another long story. Trust me, it's more complicated than you think, but if you assume that I have another child...well you're wrong. I don't. Not anymore anyway. Listen, it's obvious that we're going to need more time to get everything out in the open. I was thinking, why don't we go out to dinner tonight? We can find out more about each other, and put all of the secrets and lies aside. What do you say to that?"

Her pessimistic feelings were gradually beginning to fade, along with her worries, but she still wasn't entirely sure about this until she had all the facts. What exactly happened before she came along? When had he been a father? Where was this child now? She was sure she'd find out come tonight. Dinner actually sounded like a great idea. It would give them a chance to talk and really get to know everything about each other. She smiled softly and nodded her head. "Okay. That's a great idea. We could do that. Where are we going to go?"

He smiled smugly, shifting his weight from his right foot to his left. "Wherever you want to go. I'll let you pick the restaurant, my treat."

"Okay," she nodded with a smirk. His next action caught her completely by storm. It succeeded in not only warming her heart, but putting whatever doubts she had to rest. Leaning in, he placed a paternal kiss to her forehead. As overwhelmed by his action as she was, she couldn't stop the single tear that rolled down her cheek. She stole a quick glance at Sean who was watching the scene before him in fondness. "You didn't have to do that," she whispered to Christian.

He brought one of his hands up to wipe the tear away with the pad of his thumb. "I wanted to. Besides, Sean and I are as close as brothers. I don't mind him being around to see this. You're my daughter, not my one night stand." She cocked a brow his way at his choice of words. He sighed irritably, rolling his eyes. "All right, maybe that was a bad choice of words. The point is, I don't have to hide this part of myself from someone like Sean. Now I need to speak with him in private for a moment. You stay here."

She gently nodded her head, forcing a small smile. Slowly but surely, she was seeing the good in this man and it made her want to spend even more time with him. She could hardly wait until their dinner tonight, despite how anxious she knew she'd be. It would take some time for her to truly open up to him and feel comfortable in his presence, but they had to start somewhere. He smiled softly at her before pivoting on her heels and stepping towards his partner. Amy exchanged a small smile with Sean, "it was nice meeting you, Dr. McNamara."

He nodded his head, "yes, it was nice meeting you too Amy. Please, feel free to help yourself to a snack in the employee lounge. I don't mind and I'm sure that Christian wouldn't mind either." He exchanged a look with his colleague who nodded in agreement.

"Go right ahead, but try not to wander off." Christian added, his voice taking on a firm tone.

A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she watched he and Sean exit the room. As time went on, he was becoming more and more like a father to her astoundment. From his paternal signs of affection, to his firm and ethical tone of voice, she had high hopes for the first time ever in her life. She wasn't particularly an optimistic person, but maybe Christian was the father she SHOULD have had. They seemed to be more alike in personality than the other two men who'd tried being a father to her. So maybe Christian was smug. Maybe he was arrogant. Maybe he was a full-fledged playboy, but she didn't care. She could get use to that...with time. It was all a matter of time.


	16. That's What Friends Are For

"Christian, why didn't you tell me about her before?"

Christian sighed softly, his eyes shifting in both directions of the hallway. The last thing he wanted was for someone to walk into the middle of the conversation and make assumptions about this new girl. Bringing one of his hands up to his forehead, he followed Sean into his office. "I was waiting for the right time to tell you. I wasn't about to drop this bomb on you until I had all the facts straight. Why bother getting into dramatics over something that for all I knew was a mistake?"

Sean's office was proportional to Christian's own. As far as decor went, Sean was more conservative than he. His black metal desk sat in the same place as his and a large fish tank sat behind it where an array of brightly colored fish swam around aimlessly. Unlike him, Sean had a flat screen computer on his desk, along with a few photos of his wife, Julia, his son, Matt, and his daughter, Annie. This office was the place that they usually held their consultations. Before Amy came along, Christian liked to think he used his office for his close _personal _consultations...depending on the patient after all. Occasionally, they'd do consults in his office too, but mostly, they were held in Sean's office.

Sean placed his hands on his hips, glancing down at the floor. "How did this all happen?"

Christian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I was so God damn wasted, I couldn't even remember screwing the woman. I was still in high school for Christ's sake. Once I discovered what I could do with my dick, I wanted more. I was addicted. I didn't give a shit who I slept with." He scoffed. "All right, so things haven't changed, but shit Sean, it happened during a relentless game of Truth or Dare. I went and impregnated the bitch in a dark broom closet, over Spring Break."

Sean's brows furrowed in thought. "Spring Break?" Christian nodded his head. "You know I'm not the type to pry into your personal affairs, but why didn't you mention this back in college? If you were struggling with this, you could have come to me, Christian. You know that."

Pivoting on his heels, Christian began pacing back and forth in an attempt to shake off some of his frustration. "I just said I was too wasted to remember. That's all the information I got out of the bitch. If I was too drunk to remember what year it happened, I'm sure I didn't consider putting a rubber on my dick before I screwed her. I was never there when this girl was conceived! I never knew about this until she showed up in my office a day ago."

"Did Amy have a birth certificate when she first showed up here?"

He nodded his head, placing his hands firmly on his hips. "She did, but I was too paranoid to believe that this was real. After what happened with Wilbur..." His voice trailed off, shaking his head in discouragement. He couldn't let himself get emotional over this again. Not now. He stopped pacing and fixated his gaze on the floor. "I didn't want to believe that that was my signature on the certificate, but there it was. It was brought to my attention that the only way she was able to get my signature on that piece of paper was to wait. Wait until I was too wasted to remember." He sighed wearily.

Sean let out a sigh of his own. "I'm sorry, Christian. That this had to be brought on you."

He brought one of his hands up to rub his forehead, his head beginning to throb. Slowly, he lifted his eyes up to meet with Sean's. He shook his head. "I don't know how I could have let this happen. The only thing I know is...she's my daughter." He swallowed the lump in his throat, his emotions beginning to rise to the surface. His tone softened with his next words, "she's my daughter, Sean, and whether I like it or not...I have to try and be a father to this girl."

Sean sighed softly before gradually nodding his head in understanding. "So she wasn't here for a consult before."

He exhaled sharply at the thought, biting his bottom lip. "I hardly think I'll be operating on my own daughter anytime soon. The poor girl is terrified of hospitals. You should have seen her earlier today. When we went in for the paternity test, she could barely sit still long enough to get her blood drawn."

A sympathetic smile crossed Sean's face. There was a long pause between them before he spoke his next words, in the gentlest way possible. "I'm not trying to ruin your chances of fatherhood again, Christian, but if this girl already has a family, do you honestly want to take her away from that?"

His heart constricted in his chest, not knowing how to respond to that question. He shuffled towards the large window across the room and stood before it, staring out at the parking structure that sat adjacent to the building. The afternoon sunlight cast shadows on his woeful features as the branches of the palm trees wafted in the light breeze. "I don't want to take her away from her family. That's not what I'm trying to do...but Wilbur is gone. No matter how hard I try, I can't deny it any longer. This girl...Amy, was my daughter before she was theirs. Had I known about her, I would have protected her in the same way I had Wilbur." He swallowed the lump in his throat as a single tear rolled down his cheek. A deep sigh escaped him as he slowly turned around to face his colleague, who watched him intently with compassionate eyes. "I've been given a second chance, Sean. I don't want to be selfish, but deep down inside, I know this girl needs me...just as much as I need her. I can't just walk away from this."

Sean strolled towards him and set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I understand your point of view, Christian. I'm not saying you shouldn't take the responsibility, but you have to put yourself in her position."

"I've _been_ in her position, Sean. Are you forgetting I was adopted?" He exhaled sharply. "In any case, I'd be a better parent than her bitter and egotistical mother. The bitch wouldn't even take the time out of her busy and mediocre life to see her. Not even for five minutes. If she's not going to make an effort to be a suitable mother than by God, I'll be the best father I can be to Amy."

Sean's brows furrowed inquisitively. "Are we talking about her biological mother or her adoptive mother?"

He turned his head to meet eyes with him, his gaze growing testy. "I'm talking about the woman I impregnated, who, from what I heard, would have rather focused her attention on finishing high school instead of taking care of an innocent child for more than a month."

"Well, I don't see any harm in spending time with her, but I would think twice before you decide to become her prominent guardian. I'm guessing she hasn't discussed this with her parents yet. If I were you, I would lay low for a while. Just to be on the safe side."

Although Sean usually meant well, there were some things that he was determined to take care of on his own terms. Even if Sean was already a parent, he hadn't been through what Christian had been through in the past year. He cringed as his head throbbed with the migraine that had taken place there. "If, by laying low, you mean turn my back on her, I can't do that." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "It might sound crazy, considering I've only known her a few days, but to me..." His voice broke with his next words, "I feel like I've known her my whole life."

Sean gave his shoulder a squeeze for reassurance. "Just as long as you're careful about this. You don't want to find yourself in the middle of a domestic dispute or lawsuit for that matter. If her parents are understanding people, they might be willing to provide visitation rights."

His brows furrowed at his partner's last choice of words, his eyes fixing on him in vexation. "Visitation rights? God damn it Sean, I'm her biological father. They can't prevent me from seeing my own child. I've been down that road before and I'm not about to let it happen again! If push comes to shove, I'll fight for the right to be her legal guardian. Even if it means pending a trial." He pursed his lips, his emotions threatening to overcome him once again.

Sean sighed in frustration. "I'm not trying to be the devil's advocate here, Christian. I'm simply looking out for you, just like I always have. I know what happened with Wilbur but this isn't necessarily the same situation. I understand how much you want to be a father to this girl, but you have to look at the factors at work here. She has a family, who, for all you know, she could be content with. Just think this thing through before you start making any rash decisions."

"Jesus Sean! I'm not asking her to move-in with me!" He lowered his voice, fighting back the tears that were already welling up in his eyes. "All I want...all I've ever wanted was a child of my own. The one chance I had at being a father...went to shit. I was so intent on being such a big part of Wilbur's life, I got over-confident. I surpassed my own expectations. I would have given my own life for him," his voice broke with emotion, a tear rolling down his cheek. He took a breath to compose himself. "It's no coincidence that this girl decided to show up now. Shortly after I got the message about Wilbur. I may not have been there when she was born, but I can sure as hell be here for her now. There's something inside me that makes me want to protect her. She's a part of me now. In many ways, we seem to share similar traits. There are things I see in her that I see in myself, and I know that given time...I can be just as good of a father-if not better-than I was to Wilbur. I can't walk away from her and I won't." He scowled, dropping his gaze to his feet. His heart constricted in his chest at the thought of being seperated from Amy. He couldn't fathom it for a minute.

A smile played at the corners of Sean's mouth. He set both of his hands on Christian's shoulders and gave them a light squeeze. "I believe you can be, Christian. I witnessed it just a few moments ago in your office. If you truly want that family you've wanted for so long, you have my blessing, but if this doesn't go as you planned, you still have me. You still have Julia, Matt, and Annie. We're all here for you. No matter what happens, you'll always have us. We'll always be your family, and you'll always be ours."

He pursed his lips, on the verge of breaking down but held back. Exhaling sharply, he turned to Sean and the two men embraced each other in a loving hug. As much as he tended to neglect Sean's advice at times or get into small tiffs with him, at the end of the day, they still thought of each other as brothers. Christian didn't have but a few close friends, but the ones that he had managed to hang onto did not mean as much to him as Sean. They had been through so much over the years, and he couldn't imagine his life without him.

After a moment, Christian released his colleague and cleared his throat. Wiping a few stray tears from his eyes, he sighed softly, putting on a smug smile. "Hey, at least I won't be dealing with Gina's shit anymore. Call me crazy, but I think I've had just about enough of these bitter, sex-crazed hens attempting to foster a child."

Sean's brows furrowed in thought. "While we're on the subject, whatever happened to Gina?"

Christian rolled his eyes, scoffed and shook his head. "Frankly, I don't give a shit. The last time I saw the bitch, she had opened up her own God damn buffet line for every hard up guy in the city. She probably went back to her SA meetings in search of redemption."

As usual, Sean did not have any comment on the matter. He stole a glance at his wristwatch before looking over at Christian. "Our three o' clock should be here by now. You might want to slip into your lab coat while there's still time to spare."

He nodded his head and squared his shoulders. "I was just about to do that." Without wasting another minute, he headed towards the door. Stepping out into the hallway, he was immediately met with Liz, who looked somewhat more peevish than usual. _What now?_ He thought with another roll of his eyes.

"I thought you might like to know. Your potential one night stand that you brought with you, has snuck into the lounge, and is digging through our fridge for a snack as we speak. Honestly Christian, can you ever keep these girls on a leash?"

He cringed, disgusted at the phrase in which she referred to his daughter. He sighed irritably, glaring at the woman before him. "First of all, she's not my one night stand. Secondly, it was _Sean _who offered her a snack, not me. I don't see anything wrong with that."

"Unless she is a patient, I don't see why we're providing this girl with food. What's the matter, Christian? Have you squandered your fortunes on yet another useless amenity?" Liz cocked an inquisitive brow his way.

He was not phased in the least by her words, and although his frustration was growing, he kept a cool head about it. "The last time I checked, it was considered a courtesy to offer your guest a refreshment, even when they visit your office. Perhaps you should consider this a custom in your favor, rather than offering up your guests a bitter tongue-lashing whenever they stop by."

Liz placed her hands on her hips. "Well, I'm sorry to be the barer of bad news, but if you're planning on taking this girl to an expensive dinner in the hopes that she'll sleep with tonight, it's not going to work. This one made it perfectly clear that sleeping with _you_ would be a callous mistake."

His stomach turned at the vulgar thoughts she was putting in his head. He couldn't continue to go on with this image in his head. It was too retched for a father to stomach. "All right, cut the whole one night stand bull shit. It's making me sick." An astonished look came over Liz's face. He knew what he had to do. Now was as good of a time as any. She wouldn't stop this baised sex-talk until the truth was out. Stealing a brief glance around the area--making note of anyone in hearing distance--he lowered his voice and spoke his next words. "This girl is my daughter."

The astonishment on Liz's face only grew. It seemed to take a her a moment to get over the shock before her brows furrowed inquisitively. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

He exhaled sharply, knowing perfectly well that she would refuse to believe he was a father. He shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "You know what? Fine. Don't believe me. I'm not looking for your approval."

"I never said I didn't believe you, Christian. It was hard enough to believe the first time you told me. Have you gone and adopted a second child in addition to Wilbur, or have you knocked up another woman?"

As much as he wanted to lash out at her or perhaps lose his composure, he wouldn't allow himself to succomb to that. Especially here. "I never knocked up Gina. I'm lucky I didn't contract an STD the first time I screwed the bitch." He sighed deeply before continuing. "Not that its any of your business, but I won't be seeing Wilbur anymore. His father took him and left South Beach. Amy _is_ my daughter and I have the proof. Whether you choose to believe it is up to you. Either way, I'm not going to waste my time explaining myself to you anymore. I have work to do...unlike some of us." Squaring his shoulders, he cleared his throat and walked past her towards his office.

He should have known that Liz wouldn't believe him. He wasn't going to let anyone's opinion or criticism get in the way of being a good father. This was his OWN child, and even though she was a teenager who had a family of her own, he would not let that stop him at being there for her. Especially after he discovered her adoptive parents were divorced. Something inside him told him that now was the best time as any...to be her father.

Slipping inside his office, he strode towards the coat hanger in a corner of the room. Shrugging off his suit jacket, he grabbed the royal blue lab coat from the first hook and slipped it on. He set the suit jacket onto the hook where his lab coat had been, and proceeded to adjust the collar on his lab coat. Once that was done, his hands moved down to straighten out the sleeves at his wrists. He was ready to take a peek at his reflection in the mirror when the door opened. He turned his head in the direction of the door to see Amy strolling inside. In her hands, she carried a transparent plastic container that held a fruit salad inside it. A white plastic fork was wedged inside. He smiled softly and stepped towards her. "Find yourself a snack sweetheart?"

It seemed as though he had startled her. The minute he spoke, she jumped back a foot and drew in a sharp breath. "Oh! Shit, you scared me. I didn't think you were in here."

He chuckled softly, taking a few more steps towards her until he could slip his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his large upper body. "I'm sorry. I don't usually have that effect on people. Unless of course I have a reason to be. I just came in here to change. Sean and I have a consultation any minute now."

She cocked an inquisitive brow his way, slowly nodding her head. "Oh-kay. I guess I'll just stay here then." She lifted up the container in her hand, "I can eat this, right?"

He nodded his head. "Be my guest. Unless someone's name was on it, you're free to eat whatever you like."

She nodded with a small smile. "Okay." Stepping out of his embrace, she plopped back down in one of the wing chairs and shoved a piece of watermelon in her mouth.

"Just as long as you don't make a mess. That chair you're sitting in is worth more than you think. I don't want to spend time scrubbing fruit juice out of my eight hundred dollar Jacobson chair."

Her eyes widened in astoundment, almost choking on the piece of fruit in her mouth. "Eight hundred dollars! For both chairs!"

"No. Eight hundred dollars each."

Amy's brows arched, getting past her astonishment after a moment. She shifted in the chair and crossed her right leg over her left. "I didn't know they made designer chairs, but I'll try not to make a mess."

It might have seemed a bit presumptuous to complain about his chair, but it was unavoidable. He had never played a paternal role with someone Amy's age, other than Matt. Wilbur still had yet to become a teenager. As far as Christian was concerned, this was an entirely different situation. A situation that he would have to pace himself to get comfortable with. He nodded his head lightly. "Good." He stepped up beside the chair, leaned down and gave the top of her head a kiss before heading towards the door. "If you need anything, you should be able to find me in Sean's office. Otherwise, I should be back here later."

"Okay."

He took one last look at her. A tender smile crossed his face before he exited his office. He wanted to say something more, but he didn't know if he had enough courage to utter those three words. At least not yet. He made a commitment to himself to love her as much--if not more--than he loved Wilbur. However, he still had to get to know his daughter a little more. As he eased into the role of a father, he continuously found himself praying things worked out better than before. He couldn't imagine life throwing him anymore curve balls.


	17. An Old Friend, A New Father

Amy watched Christian leave the room. She smiled to herself, her heart warming at his paternal gesture. Maybe things were going to be okay. If this man couldn't be her father, she'd settle for a dominant big brother in her life. She had always wanted one after all. The snide remark about his chair had caught her off guard, leaving her to believe that he'd gone back to his usual smug self, but his paternal gesture put her assumptions to rest, and provided her with the reassurance she needed. Her stomach knotted up as she continued to eat her fruit salad. Tonight was definitely going to be an interesting night. She just prayed that her mother wouldn't second guess her about where she was going.

Setting the plastic container down on her lap for a moment, she unzipped her purse stationed beside her, and took out a paperback novel by author, Dean Koontz. She figured she might as well find some way to entertain herself for the time being. At least she was smart enough to have brought the book with her. Once she opened up the book to the place where she'd wedged her bookmark, she shoved another piece of watermelon in her mouth, and focused her attention on the pages before her. She was so immersed in her book that she didn't even hear the door open.

"Christian?"

Amy looked up from her book to see a petite, trim and stunning blonde step into the room. Her large blue eyes scanned her surroundings with an intent eye. Her first reaction to this woman's appearance was, to put it simply: A Marilyn Monroe wannabe. Her short wavy blonde tresses were styled in the same coif as the memorable starlet. From her tiny waist down to her toned and tanned legs, she looked as though she could have any man she wanted. Probably within a snap of her perfectly manicured fingers. This woman was like a typical college bimbo. Amy could sense it. She was probably the type of person who prided herself on her body. From her skimpy clothes, she sure seemed to flaunt her chest clevage in whatever way possible. Her ample and rounded breasts peeked out from the white, low-cut, halter top she wore, and her silk white mini-skirt was shorter than most. The fact that this woman was looking for her father, didn't surprise her in the least bit. Was she another one of his one night stands? She shuddered to think.

The woman's eyes locked on her form, her angular brows furrowing inquisitively. "I'm sorry. I'm looking for Christian. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Amy rolled her eyes, closed the novel and placed it beside her, wedging it between the arm of the chair and her leg. She looked over at the woman with a weary sigh. "It seems like everyone is looking for him. He told me he had a consultation right now."

"Oh." She nodded her head, looking down at the floor. Slowly, she lifted her eyes back up and fixed her gaze on Amy. That same questioning look was still plastered on her face. She tilted her head to one side. "Who are you?"

Oh no, was she going to assume the worst about her as Liz had? Was she going to assume that she was sleeping with her own father? She cringed, her stomach turning at the thought. She exhaled sharply. "I'm Amy. Look, before you say anything, the answer is no. I'm not sleeping with him. Trust me, he's all yours if you want him. I never slept with him and I never will. Who are you?"

The inquisitiveness vanished from her face as she sauntered towards Amy. "I'm Kimber. And if you're not one of Christian's many one night stands, who are you? A patient? I'll be honest, honey, you look a little too young to be getting plastic surgery."

Oh gimmie a break! She was nineteen years old and a sophomore in college. There were plenty of girls like her vying for cosmetic surgery. Their bodies were already in the midst of womanhood. They were developing rapidly, but most young women her age weren't blessed with a perfect set of breasts. Nor did all of them inherit model-like facial features. Sure, Amy wasn't satisfied with her body completely, but she wasn't about to make that known. Especially to a woman like Kimber. She would kill to have a body like hers. She gave the woman another roll of her eyes. "No, I'm _not_ actually, and I'm sure there are girls younger than me who get plastic surgery...just so you know."

Kimber seemed a bit surprised by her spiteful tone. "I guess there are. If you're not a patient then who exactly are you? You don't have to lie to me, sweetie. If you and Christian are involved, just say it. Don't make me play guessing games."

_Here we go again._ Amy exhaled sharply. "I'm not lying to you, ok? I am _not_ involved with Christian and I never will be!" She leaned forward in her chair, setting the plastic container down on the round table beside her. Looking back at Kimber, she noticed the determination on the woman's face. It was clear she didn't believe her. Who was she anyway? Her father's girlfriend? Did he even have one long term relationship? She brought one of her hands up to her temples, a migraine already taking form. "All right, I'm involved with Christian, but not in the way that you think."

Kimber narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She nodded her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "Hmm, and just what way would that be?"

She groaned. What was she going to get herself into? "It's complicated to say the least. You wouldn't believe me anyway. You'd probably be just like everyone else."

For a moment, all Kimber did was stare at her. A moment later, she sauntered over to the wing chair across from her and dropped her shapely figure into it, crossing her legs as she did so. She cocked her head to one side, her gaze remaining fixed on Amy. "Try me."

Amy sighed deeply, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Her father was going to get pissed at her. She knew it. However, there was no other way around this. She pivoted in her chair to where she was facing the woman. "All right...I'm his daughter."

Kimber's brows furrowed. A horrible silence passed between them. The same nerve-wracking silence that accumulated between two gunslingers in the old west. Kimber stared at Amy. Amy stared at Kimber. Both females sat there across from each other without a word. It was as if they were both having a staring contest, waiting intently for the other to blink. Amy wondered if this woman was trying to psych her out. The longer it went on, the more anxious she became.

Amy jumped the moment Kimber finally shifted in her seat. A weary sigh escaped the woman as she leaned towards her, resting her forearm on top of her knee, "mm-hmm, and just how much did he pay you to say that?"

What a bitch, Amy thought. This time it was her eyes that narrowed as she glared at Kimber. "He didn't pay me shit! It's true. I'm his daughter. You can even ask him yourself. No, wait." She recalled something she hadn't realized beforehand. Reaching over onto the round table, she grabbed her purse and unzipped it. She came out with her birth certificate and thrust it towards Kimber. "I have the proof. Read it and weep."

Kimber's gaze landed on the piece of paper, plucking it from her hand and looking it over intently. Amy sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an apology. She doubted it would come, especially from her, but she wasn't giving up hope. A moment later, Kimber lifted her eyes back up to Amy. She pursed her lips. Amy could have sworn she saw a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Maybe it was just her. The woman handed the piece of paper back to her and sat back in her seat. "I guess you are his daughter. It comes as a surprise to me. He never mentioned he had another baby."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her pessimistic nature getting the best of her. She was still oblivious to her father's past. He had told her moments ago that it was a complicated story, but he didn't have another child...anymore. There were still a million questions that she needed the answers to. She'd find out everything by tonight, but why should she have to wait? She could find out everything right now if she really wanted to.

"He never mentioned that to me either," she told her, not being able to hide the scowl that crossed her face.

"He's never told you?" Kimber's eyes narrowed in thought. Amy shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. A soft sigh escaped Kimber, shifting in her seat. "Well honey, if you really want to know the truth. Your father--"

"Wait!" Amy held a hand up to silence the woman. "I don't want to know, as much of a surprise as that may be to you. Besides, he's going to tell me about all of this anyway. I'd rather just wait." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. As much as she wanted to hear the woman out, her conscience wasn't in it. She could leave out parts or even lie about some things.

"I would think you'd want to know all this now. If he's kept this from you your whole life, why waste another minute knowing the truth?"

She sighed deeply. "I haven't known him my whole entire life. I was...I was adopted. I just found him a couple days ago. Of course I still have a lot to learn about him, and he has a lot to tell me, but he's my dad." _He's my dad._ The words sounded awkward the moment they left her mouth. Probably because this was the first time she had said them. At least outloud.

"There's a lot to learn about him, honey. Some of it isn't exactly worth hearing. I never saw him as a father, to tell you the truth. I don't think anyone did, but who knows? He seems to be full of surprises these days."

Amy uncrossed her arms and placed them on those of the chair. Her gaze dropped to the left arm of the chair, picking at an imaginary piece of lint. "If you're referring to the whole thing about him being a playboy, I already picked up on that. I also picked up on how arrogant he can be." Slowly, her eyes lifted to meet Kimber's, lowering her voice with her next words. "It's hard to believe, now that I've seen another side to him, but my first impression of him was that he was a total--"

"Asshole?"

A soft chuckle escaped her. It was a bit of a surprise that Kimber thought the same of him, but from what she'd heard, who wouldn't think of him as an asshole? That's exactly what he seemed like. At least up until the results of the paternity test. She nodded her head. "Yeah."

"It's not hard to believe at all. We all know how much of a prick he can be on occasion. Sorry sweetheart." Kimber's eyes dropped to her lap. "Despite his arrogant and cold-hearted nature, he _can _be awfully charming when he wants to be. There are so many sides to Christian. Softer sides, that I'm sure he rarely shows to anyone. Girls like you and I tend to get burned, but lucky for you," she lifted her eyes back up to Amy, "you're his daughter. There might be hope for you yet."

She didn't know why but her heart constricted in her chest. Perhaps it was mere heartache. Heartache for the father she had high hopes he could be. If this woman knew him better than she did--which she could see she did--maybe Amy could transform Christian Troy into a new person. A person everyone would be thankful to know. She gave her a gentle nod, forcing a small smile. "I hope so. I'm _starting_ to see a different side to him anyway."

Kimber gave her a small smile. It seemed like she was trying mercifully to actually be friendly to her, which was mostly a relief to Amy. "He hasn't mentioned me to you yet, has he?"

Her brows furrowed, shaking her head. "No. Um, are you and him...? You know? Are you his girlfriend?"

Kimber brought one of her hands up to her head, tossing around her blonde locks with a weary sigh. "Use to be. We had a thing...for a while, but it never really worked out. It's actually kind of a long story."

She nodded her head. "Oh. So you guys aren't together right now?"

Kimber shook her head. "No. Not yet anyway."

A baffled expression appeared on Amy's face. Was this woman trying to get with her father...again? She couldn't imagine this Marilyn-Monroe-wannabe becoming her new mother. What kind of name was Kimber anyway? Was it short for Kimberly? Having Malibu Barbie dating her father was the last thing she wanted, but then, who was she to choose which bimbos he dated? She just hoped she wasn't vying to become Christian's new wife. Speaking of mothers, she wondered why Christian hadn't spoken of her birth mother, Danielle. Was he hiding something from her? Had he even bothered to talk to her since she had told him she was his daughter? It would make sense that he might not have had the time, but surely he'd want to know how this all happened. She made mental note to find out as soon as she could.

Kimber stole a glance at the clock on the wall. Her eyes traveled towards the closed door of Christian's office. "I guess he'll be awhile. I should probably go. It'll be at least an hour until he's finished."

Amy nodded with a woeful sigh. "Yeah, I guess he's pretty busy, for being one of the best plastic surgeon's in South Beach. At least from what I heard. I never thought my birth father would be a doctor."

Kimber smiled at her words, glancing down at her breasts. "He does pretty good work. If you can believe it, he was the one who gave me a boob job." She brought her finger up to her nose, "and a nose job."

She wasn't surprised that those weren't Kimber's real boobs, but she didn't stop to consider that her father had done them. He probably had. In more ways than one. Slowly, she nodded her head. "Oh," was all she could say. Even when she wanted to shell out a snide remark. Suddenly, she realized how much she and Christian shared the same personality traits. She could already see him coming out with a snide remark right about now.

"If you ever consider getting anything done, you could probably get it for free, considering you're his daughter."

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I don't think that's ever going to happen. I'm not exactly so fond of hospitals or anything inside them."

Kimber sent her a somewhat sympathetic smile. "To be honest, I don't think you'd need any work done anyway." Her eyes trailed over Amy's form, "you probably have boys lining up to date you as it is. Maybe even a boyfriend of your own." She smirked, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Was she paying her a compliment? Did her ears decieve her? Either way, it only succeeded in causing a scowl to cross her face. She shook her head. "No, I don't have a boyfriend, nor have I ever had one. The boys that I went to high school with weren't exactly lining up to date me, and neither are the ones at my college. Thanks for the compliment though."

Kimber pursed her lips, pushing up to her feet. "That's too bad. They don't know what their missing." She cocked her head to one side, studying Amy's facial features. "Have you ever considered going blonde?"

She blinked at those words. Was she kidding? Her? Blonde? She had considered it once in high school, but realized that she was happy with her auburn colored locks. "Uh...maybe once. A long time ago. Why?"

Kimber shook her head. "No reason. I'm going to get going. It was nice meeting you." She forced a small smile before sauntering towards the door. Opening the door, she called over her shoulder to Amy before walking out. "Oh, and good luck with Christian."

A smile played at the corners of Amy's mouth at her last words. Maybe Kimber wasn't such a conceited bimbo like she thought she was. Maybe she actually had a heart. Still, it didn't stop her from wondering what had happened between her and Christian. Could it be that she was trying to gain her father's affections again? If it were true, she didn't know if she'd be so comfortable with it. With a weary sigh, she reached over onto the table and picked up her fruit salad. She ate about half of the container, leaving nothing but the cantalope and pears. Placing the lid back on the container, she set it back on the table.

Sitting back in the chair, she exhaled sharply, wondering what on earth she could do while she waited for Christian. She glanced at her watch. It hadn't even been an hour yet. What was she going to do with the rest of the time she was in here? Christian had advised her--in as paternal a tone as he could have mustered--not to wander off. Her leg bobbed up and down restlessly. She hated not having anything to do, and she didn't feel like sitting there and reading anymore. She wasn't going to go home, but she couldn't stay in there any longer. Placing her paperback novel back into her purse, she zipped it up and slung it over her shoulder. She pushed herself up to her feet, her eyes scanning over the chair she had been sitting in, making sure there were no stains. The last thing she wanted was for Christian to have it out for her.

A sigh of relief escaped her when she realized there weren't any. Pivoting on her heels, she squared her shoulders and strode towards the door. Stepping out into the hallway, her eyes shifted in both directions. There was no sign of her father. Just a couple nurses in blue scrubs going about their business. She strolled towards the front of the building, her eyes scanning the doors for Sean McNamara's office. The door was closed when she came to it. She bit down on her her bottom lip, contemplating whether or not she should go inside. As much as she didn't want to be a snoop, she found herself placing her ear on the door. Christian and Sean's voices sounded from inside the room, along with a female voice she did not recognize.

She was hesitant to interrupt the consultation she knew was going on, but she didn't want to leave without her father knowing about it. She might break his heart. Taking in a deep calming breath of bravery, she lifted her hand up to softly rap on the door.

"Yes?" Sean's voice sounded.

Turning the knob, she slowly opened the door and peeked her head inside. Both Sean and Christian were sitting behind his desk, their hands folded before them. That same woman she had seen sitting out in the waiting area earlier, sat in one of the chairs before the desk. The two men turned their heads the moment the door opened. Meeting eyes with Christian, she saw his brows furrow inquisitively. She swallowed the lump in her throat before she spoke, "um, sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to my--to Christian." She cringed, almost having said the words, "my dad."

A weary sigh escaped Christian, turning his head to exchange a look with Sean.

"Go on. I can finish up Ms. Mara's consultation," Sean assured him with a nod.

Christian looked from Sean to Amy, and finally to the woman before them, sending her a tight smile. "Excuse me." Pushing up to his feet, he cleared his throat and shuffled towards the door. He shut the door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway with Amy. "What's the problem? Are you bored to tears already, sweetheart?"

She sighed deeply, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "Sort of. I'm sorry that I interrupted your meeting, but I didn't want to leave without you knowing about it."

His brows arched in surprise. "You want to leave?"

She shrugged once again. "Well, there's nothing I can do here. I don't know how long you're going to be. Don't think that I don't appreciate you letting me come here. I'd rather be here than at home right now. I mean, I could go to the mall, but I don't have any money. You gotta have a job to have money. My mom never gives me any, and I don't have an allowance. It's no fun just to look around." Christian stared at her blankly. It was almost as if he were contemplating something to say. She continued as he brushed aside his lab coat and reached into his pocket. "I guess I could go to the library or something, but if I wanted to read, I could just..." Her voice trailed off, noticing Christian had opened up his wallet. Her eyes widened as she watched him slip out a few bills and thrust them her way. Looking closer, she noticed they were fifty dollar bills.

"Don't spend it all in one place," he smiled smugly.

Her brows furrowed in bafflement, looking from the bills in his hand to his face. "Are you serious? _You_ want to give _me_ money?"

"What does it look like? You're my daughter, and until you get a job of your own, I don't have any problem slipping you a few dollars every now and then. It's what a father does after all, isn't it?"

She exchanged a smile with him before taking the money. Her smile grew and her eyes widened, noticing the amount of money he had given her. They were fifty dollar bills, four of them. He was giving her two hundred dollars! A chuckle escaped her. "A _few_ dollars? Yeah right. A few dollars is like five dollars. Not two hundred."

Christian stole a glance around the area for a moment. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his chest and kissing the top of her head. "I make thousands of dollars everyday, sweetheart. I'm doing you a favor. Besides, you can buy yourself something nice to wear to dinner tonight."

She giggled and nodded her head. "Yeah, I could. Well thank you so much. Seriously, you don't know how happy this makes me."

He gave her a loving squeeze, bringing her closer to him. "The pleasure is all mine. I can pick you up at your place tonight or we could meet at mine. We could even meet at the restaurant. Which do you prefer?" He looked down at her, his brows arching expectantly.

His gesture warmed her heart more so than before. Mainly because they were out in the open, not in the privacy of his office. There was no way she was going to have him pick _her_ up. If her mother found out about him now, she wouldn't understand. In fact, she might even forbid her to see him again. However, it wouldn't be appropriate for her to pick _him_ up. Shouldn't the man always pick up the lady? "Well, I'm not sure what restaurant we could go to, but if you could pick me up...I don't know." She looked down at her feet before stepping out of his embrace. She scowled at the baffled look on his face.

Lowering her tone of voice, she continued, sensing he'd want her to. "The thing is, I haven't told my mom about you yet or...any of this. I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to. I'd say we could meet at your place, but I wouldn't feel right picking _you_ up. I don't know if you could maybe park like a couple houses down from my house. That way my mom wouldn't see you." She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Nevermind, I couldn't ask you to do that."

Christian stepped closer to her, setting his hands on her shoulders. He kept his tone of voice at the same level as hers. "Sweetheart, I don't have a problem changing my course of action. Not for you. If it helps to make the situation better, I'll do whatever I can. I'm not surprised that you haven't told your foster mother. In fact, if you never wanted to tell her, I wouldn't care. Whatever you're comfortable with. If you want me to park a couple houses down, I'll do it. If you want me to park two blocks away, I'll do that too. Whatever you want to do, it's up to you."

She smiled softly, wanting so badly to hug him right now in the middle of the hall, but not so sure how he'd react. Not caring what he or anyone else thought, she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him in a loving embrace. Christian's arms willingly enclosed her petite frame, resting his chin on top of her head. "I'll probably never tell her, but if you could...park a couple houses down from mine, I'll let you pick me up."

"Will do. How does seven o' clock sound?"

Her brows furrowed in thought. "How bout seven thirty or eight?"

"Eight it is. Have you decided on the restaurant yet?"

She released him and took a step back, looking up at him. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I'm not sure. As hard as it is to believe, I still don't know my way around Florida. I mean, sure, I know a few places around my block, but I'm kind of in the mood for seafood. I'm a huge seafood fan. Do you happen to know if they have a Red Lobster around here by any chance?"

Christian snickered. "If you want seafood sweetheart, Red Lobster isn't the place. We're in South Beach, Florida. There are hundreds of seafood restaurants here. In fact, I know the perfect place where we can go. It's on Alton Road near the marina, and I can guarantee you, the food will be ten times better than a cheap, under cooked meal at Red Lobster."

Her brows arched in surprise. She didn't doubt that he knew where all the hot places were in South Beach. The four star restaurants and hotels, the hippest night clubs, and definitely the best beaches. Cocking her head to one side, she studied the smug look on his face. "Do they have crab legs and lobster?"

He smiled smugly. "All-you-can-eat. The lobster is so big, you'll need a bulldozer to roll you home."

A grin spread across her face, nodding her head. "Okay. We'll go there then."

"Great. I'll make the reservation for eight, and I'll be at your house by seven thirty. How's that sound?"

"It sounds good, but remember..."

He shook his head. "You don't need to keep reminding me, sweetheart. I know where I'm suppose to be." She laughed lightly and nodded her head. Leaning in, he placed a paternal kiss to her forehead. "Now go buy yourself something nice for tonight."

She smirked, loving him more as her father by each passing minute. "I will. See ya later." Turning on her heels, she started off towards the front of the building. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she realized that he was still standing there, watching her walk off.

This was the way it should have been. Christian should have been her father. It mistified her how much he had changed the moment he realized the truth. He had transformed from a spiteful and flippant person, to an affectionate and attentive father. In just a matter of hours. She suddenly wondered why she had even been adopted at all. Why couldn't he have taken her under his wing a long time ago? Had that happened, she had a feeling her life would be a lot better than it was now. Regardless, the only thing that mattered now was that he was here. She found him. And she would not let him go.


	18. An Unwanted Call, A Sincere Apology

"I've been busy. That's all." Amy rolled her eyes dramatically, listening to the caller on the recieving end of the cordless phone she held to her ear. She wondered when it would ever stop. She wanted nothing to do with him anymore. So tempted as she was to hang up, she knew she couldn't. What good would it do anyway? It wouldn't change things. Nothing had changed.

"Busy? Doing what? You're not having sex with any of those filthy college boys, are you? Amy Gellar, why haven't you returned my calls? Are you having your mother cover for you again?"

She began pacing back and forth, a migraine starting to take form in her head. "No! Look, the reason I haven't called you is because I'm busy. I've got school work to do, and _no_, I'm not having _sex_ with any college boys."

The man on the opposite end of the phone exhaled deeply, almost as if he were trying to control his temper. Suddenly, his gravely tone of voice became threatening with his next words. "Don't you use that tone of voice with me. I'm your father, and whether you like it or not, I'm still a part of your life. You can't shut me out."

Amy bit down on her bottom lip, holding back the tears that were rising to the surface. She wouldn't let herself cry. Not again. Not over this. She hated the way in which he had spoken to her. It wasn't the first time, and she doubted it would be the last. "Why..." She took in a deep calming breath, her voice breaking with emotion. As tempted as she was to deny that he was her father, she would not risk it. "Why do you keep calling me? Why are you acting this way to me?"

"I told you. I'm your father! I just want to know what the hell my daughter has been up to. You don't seem to give a damn about what happened to your dear old dad." He lowered his voice, that dangerous tone still present, "just because I live in New York, doesn't mean I can't come down there and see you. You may not want me back in your life, but I'm not going anywhere. You can't get rid of me as easy as you think. Whether you believe it or not, as angry as you make me at times...I love you."

He loved her? She stopped believing that a long time ago. This man was incapable of love. Old childhood terrors were coming back to haunt her. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest, as she began trembling slightly in fright. Her eyes shifted in either directions of her room, landing on the window beside her bed. The white silk curtains were drawn and wafted in the light breeze of the early evening. Suddenly, not feeling so secure, she strode towards the window and shut it. A soft sigh escaped her.

"Amy Gellar, when are you ever going to learn? Don't you remember what happened the last time you made me angry? You don't want to see me get angry with you, do you?" When she didn't answer, his tone got louder, "do you!"

Not being able to keep her emotions at bay any longer, she allowed the tears to stream down her cheeks. She wanted to hang up. She wanted to hang up and change her number. She was thankful that the man lived in another state, but the thought that he could get the next flight out to Florida filled her with horror. A horror she hadn't felt in years. "I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." Her voice trailed off as she choked back the tears.

"What are you crying about?" He shouted the next word, "Huh?"

She sniffled and took in a deep breath to calm herself. "Nothing. I'm not crying. I yawned and my eyes got watery. Listen, I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you. You're right. I shouldn't be acting like that to you. There's nothing wrong with you calling me. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." She couldn't keep her voice from breaking at her last words.

"My ears did not decieve me. I heard you crying, but you damn well better start showing me some respect. Your mother and I may be divorced, but it doesn't change the fact that you're still my daughter. The next time I call, I don't want to hear that tone out of you. You're not too old for me to still put over my knee. You hear me?"

Her heart constricted in her chest. Pressing her shins up against the bed frame, she found herself sinking down onto the floor, the phone still grasped in her slightly trembling hand. She brought her opposite hand up to wipe away the tears still rolling down her cheeks. She nodded her head vigorously, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "Y-yes. I'm sorry."

There was a moment of silence from the opposite end of the phone. An uneasy silence that made her throat close up and her heart pound in her chest. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat, her apprehension growing the longer the silence went on. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the man finally spoke.

"That's what I thought."

There was a click. He had hung up. The cordless phone slipped from her hand and she immediately broke down sobbing. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she buried her head in them. Her body shook with emotion. She couldn't believe that she had let him get to her...again. For so long she had tried to get him out of her head, but nothing would stop him from calling her. There was no escape. He wasn't her father anymore. Why was he still bothering her? He never was her father, and she would never think of him that way. After what he had done to her and her mother, she would never forgive him. She couldn't fathom how the man had thought of himself as a suitable father. She use to think it was a curse that she was born into this family.

That was, until today. Even if she and Christian Troy had gotten off on the wrong foot, suddenly things seemed more promising in her life. There was hope where there use to be distress. Something about this man made her feel secure. It was almost as if she had a purpose in this world. Finally. Although it was still early to tell, she had a feeling that Christian needed her in his life just as badly as she needed him. Suddenly, her sobbing died down long enough for her to lift her head up. Christian! The dinner date. How could she forget! Her eyes shifted towards the digital clock/radio on her nightstand. It was already seven o' clock. She only had a half an hour before he got here.

Placing a shaky hand onto her mattress, she struggled up to her feet and stepped towards her dresser, staring back at her reflection in the large mirror above it. She was a mess. She couldn't see Christian like this. He would see the emotion on her face and he'd probably get suspicious. He'd want to know what was going on. She couldn't allow that to happen. It was too early for her to tell him about her adoptive father. Then again, tonight was the night they were going to get everything out in the open. If Christian found out about the man and what he'd done, she didn't know if she'd be so willing to see his reaction. Who knew what he might say. Who knew what he might do. She needed more time to think about it.

Brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face, she looked over her shoulder at the various shopping bags that sat on her bed. She had had more fun shopping that day than she'd ever had before. Having money in her pocket was definitely a great feeling. She never realized just how liberating it was. Christian was definitely a generous person, and she couldn't have thanked him enough for this. She couldn't thank him enough for coming into her life. Now seemed as good a time as any for her to find him. As much as she couldn't stop from thinking about her adoptive father, she had to will herself to put her mind on something else. This dinner with Christian should take her mind off it. At least for now. For God's sakes, she was going to have a good time tonight. Not one person was going to ruin it for her.

Turning on her heels, she shuffled back to her bed. Snatching a kleenex from the nightstand, she wiped the stray tears from her eyes. She tossed the tissue into the trash bin, grabbed the remote for her stereo, and flipped it on. The sounds of EMF's song, "Unbelievable" pumped out of her speakers. Opening up the Forever 21 bag, she took out a cream colored, polyester and lace, spaghetti strap camisole along with some brown pants. She didn't know if she should be dressing formal or casual. It _was_, after all, a date with her father. She decided on a cross between both. Sighing softly, she went on and changed into the outfit. A minute later, she stepped over to the mirror and looked herself over. The camisole revealed the bronze colored skin of her shoulders and arms, and didn't reveal too much of her cleavage. Her cleavage was the last thing she was worried about. She still cringed when she thought about the attraction she'd felt for Christian from the beginning.

Bringing her hands up, she tied the brown ribbon just beneath the boddess. She stopped short when she got the sudden feeling that someone was watching her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her mother standing in the doorway of her room. A soft smile was on her face.

"You look nice. Are you going somewhere?"

A weary sigh escaped Amy, feigning the best lie she could muster. "Courtney and I are going to the movies, then going to get a pizza."

Teresa nodded her head. "Will there be...boys there?" She cocked her head to one side.

She rolled her eyes and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "No. Not unless Courtney decides to invite Matt. She didn't really tell me anything, but I hardly doubt I'll be doing anything with any boys. I'll end up being the third wheel...again. You don't have to worry about it."

"Well, that's good to know. Try not to stay out too late. Be home by ten at the latest."

Amy blinked back her surprise. "You're actually letting me stay out past nine?"

Teresa stepped further inside the room, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are growing up, honey. I trust that you are able to be home at a decent hour. After all, you know that you will ultimately be grounded if you don't." She sighed deeply. "Listen sweetheart, I'm sorry for pressuring you about getting a job lately. I just want what's best for you. I don't think you want to live here forever, do you? You should be out making your own money. Wouldn't it be nice to have some money in your pocket? You wouldn't have to be asking me for it anymore."

She scowled, dropping her gaze to her feet. It amazed her how civil her mother could be to her at times. She gently nodded her head. "Yeah. It would. Believe me, I'm trying to get a job. I just need time. Right now..." Slowly, she lifted her eyes back up to meet with her mother's. "I'm trying to focus on my education. I want to major in music. If I have a major and I get a degree, will that change anything?"

"Sure it will. It would be great for you to finish college and to go and pursue that, but it's always nice to have something to fall back on. At least think about applying for one of those jobs. It couldn't hurt to apply. If you do that for me, honey, it would mean a lot to me."

Amy crossed her own arms over her chest, exhaling sharply. "I'll think about it. I'll fill out the applications soon." She forced a small smile.

Teresa stepped closer to her daughter and kissed her forehead. "Good. I'm happy to hear that." She gave Amy's shoulder a pat, "you have fun tonight." Turning on her heels, she started out of the room.

"Uh, mom?"

Her mother stopped in the doorway and turned back around. "Yes?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. Her heart constricted in her chest before the words escaped her. "I'm glad that you're with Chris. I know I might not always seem like I like him, but...he's better than you-know-who." She didn't know why she said those words, but after that phone call, she owed it to her mother to say it. They weren't a lie either. She meant them.

Teresa's brows arched in astoundment. Her features softened shortly after. It seemed as though the woman were holding in her emotions. The glossy appearance of her eyes told Amy all she needed to know. "You know, as much as your father and I did not get along, he still loves you. He may not always act that way, but it wouldn't kill you to talk to him when he calls. What's the worst that could happen? He's in New York. The things he did..." She sighed deeply, looking down at the floor. "The things he said...it's in the past honey." She gave her daughter a smile of reassurance. "He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt me. Chris is trying to be a father to you as best he can. I really think you need a father in your life, and I want him to be yours...as long as you're willing to accept him for the person he is on the inside."

Amy pursed her lips to prevent anymore tears from escaping her. She took in a deep breath to compose herself. She gently nodded her head at her mother. "I know. The thing is, I already..." Her voice trailed off, realizing where that sentence would lead if she continued. She felt guilty and she was tempted to tell her mother about Christian. Then again, when she thought about it, the man's words began re-playing in her head. "_In fact, if you never wanted to tell her, I wouldn't care. Whatever you're comfortable with._" He was right. If she wasn't comfortable with it. She didn't have to tell her.

Her mother's brows furrowed inquisitively. "You already what, honey?"

"I already...told you how much I'm thankful Chris is here. I guess I just need to say it more often." She shrugged her shoulders. It wasn't a lie, but it was the best she could do.

Teresa smiled tenderly. "You don't know how happy I am to see this change in you. You really are growing up." Without another word, the woman turned back around and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

Amy exhaled a sigh of relief that she was gone. A single tear managed to escape the corner of her eye, but she quickly brushed it away. Just hearing her mother talk about the past and her adoptive father made her want to break down again. She cursed at herself for feeling this way. She was done crying over him. The only thing she could do was force herself to push all these depressing thoughts aside. Now was not the time for it. She focused her efforts in continuing to get herself ready. Deciding on wearing her brown chunky-heeled open toed sandals, she dropped onto her bed and slipped them on. It took her all of ten minutes to do her make-up and hair. She brought some strands of hair out of her face, and held them back with a butterfly clip, allowing a few strands to fall at either sides of her face. She wasn't the type of girl who went overboard on make-up. The only things she put on her face were foundation, eyeshadow, a little bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. Just enough to bring out her natural beauty.

Stealing a glance over at the clock on the nightstand, she only had five minutes left to spare. Dashing back to her bed, she opened up the shopping bag from Rhythm Clothiers and pulled out a brown leather jacket. After quickly yanking the tag off, she tugged the garment on over her camisole. She shut off her stereo, grabbed her purse, took one last look at herself, and headed out of her room. She nearly stumbled as she rushed down the stairs, calling out an audible good-bye to her mother before walking out the door.

The light evening breeze swept across her face, causing the loose strands of her hair to caress the sides of her face. As much as she was trying to remain calm and collected, she couldn't prevent the butterflies from forming in her stomach. A soft sigh escaped her as she stepped off of the front porch and strolled down the front walkway. Her eyes shifted up and down the sidewalk once she came to the end of the walk. She thanked God that there were street lamps or she wouldn't have spotted Christian's black porsche.

Squaring her shoulders, she strode down the sidewalk towards his vehicle. It might not have been appropriate at the time, but she suddenly found herself wondering what _he'd_ be wearing. Would he be dressed formal just for her? Would he even care to look presentable at all? Her heart was already pounding by the time she reached the car. Before she could lift the handle, the passenger's side window rolled down and Christian appeared.

He smiled brightly. "Right on time. I thought I'd be waiting here at least another five minutes. Hop in sweetheart." He reached over and opened the door for her.

She smiled softly and followed his command, shutting the door behind her. Looking over at him, she noticed that he was dressed in his usual dress shirt and suit jacket ensemble, and a _pink_ dress shirt at that. A man brave enough to wear pink. Who would have thought? She couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping her as much as she tried to surpress it.

Christian's brows arched expectantly. "What's so funny?"

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and shook her head. "Nothing. Uh, where are we going?"

He turned the key in the ignition and the porsche roared to life. "We, are going to Monty's. Absolutely one of the best seafood restaurants this side of Miami Beach. Trust me, you'll love it." Putting the vehicle in gear, he pulled onto the road and headed towards their destination.

"I can't wait," she beamed.


	19. A Heartfelt Connection

"What did you tell your mother?"

Amy peeled her attention off of the passenger's side window to look over at him. "Um, I just told her that me and my friend, Courtney, were going to the movies. Then going to get a pizza." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

Christian may not have seemed to care much about what she told her adoptive mother, but another part of him was curious. He didn't know what he'd do if the woman found out about him. The last thing he wanted was for her to be taken from him. He wouldn't let it happen. Not again. He'd been through enough as it was. He nodded his head, stealing a glance over at her. "And she was okay with that?" In other words, did she believe her?

"Yeah. Why wouldn't she be? Well...there _are_ times when she can be a major bitch, but other times, she's stupid enough to believe me. I guess it all depends on her."

A chuckle escaped him. That sounded a lot like something he'd say, given the circumstances. "Ah, I see. You don't exactly see eye to eye most of the time."

She shook her head. "Not really. Since my parents got divorced...I don't know. I guess she's changed. She didn't use to be as defensive with me as she is now."

He stopped to wonder, how _was_ this woman treating her compared to Danielle? Not only her adoptive mother, but her father as well. These were questions he was determined to find the answers to. Along with so many others. He cleared his throat. "Believe me sweetheart, when you get to be my age, you discover that all parents are the same. Up until the day you pack up and move out. God forbid you should live under their roof for the rest of your life."

She exchanged a look with him before a weary sigh escaped her. Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffed. "If only I _could_ move out. If I had a job, that would be the one thing I'd be saving up for, a house. Or even an apartment. Even if it took years. I just want my own space."

If he had it his way, he would buy her that place of her own. Then again, he didn't have the rights to pull her out of her own home. Sean's words were already coming back to haunt him. He was right. He couldn't take her away from her family. Unless of course he had good reason to. "In time...you'll have it."

She propped her elbow up on the door and leaned her cheek on her hand. "Yeah..._in time._"

Christian took his eyes off of the road to look over at her. It broke his heart to see her so miserable. He wanted to do something for her. Other than take her out to an expensive restaurant. She deserved more. If he was going to be a good father, he had to start taking the initiative and go the extra mile for her. Make her feel loved and cherished the way any other father would. He forced a small smile, even though she did not look up at him. The next few minutes, neither one of them said another word to the other. It wasn't that Christian didn't _want_ to talk to her, but at the moment, he couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd wait until they got to the restaurant where they'd be face-to-face. It was hard to hold any suitable conversation in a dark vehicle. Unless of course, she weren't his daughter, but that was another situation all together. Something that he didn't want to fathom...ever again.

By the time eight o' clock came, Christian was pulling into the parking lot of Monty's Stone Crab & Seafood Restaurant on Alton Road. He found a space about twenty feet away from the entrance, parked the vehicle and turned off the engine. "Here we are." He turned towards Amy, noticing that something wasn't right with her. She looked as if she had been crying. Either that or she was about to start crying. His brows furrowed inquisitively, reaching out and placing his hand on her shoulder. "Hey. What's wrong?"

She took in a breath and shook her head. "Nothing. I'm fine." She lifted her eyes up from her lap to meet with his, giving him a small smile.

He sighed wearily, his gaze becoming firm. "I don't believe that for a second. There's still tears in your eyes. Now tell me what's going on."

She exhaled sharply, turning towards him. One of her hands came up to brush away those stray tears with the back of her index finger. "It's nothing. Really. It's just..." She bit down on her bottom lip, gazing into his intent eyes almost as if she were debating whether or not she should speak. "I'm so glad that you're my father. Does that sound weird to you?"

Somehow, he didn't think that was what she was going to say, but her words still succeeded in warming his heart. So much so, he had to hold back the tears that were already welling up in his own eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. "Not at all." He moved his hand from her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her close to kiss the top of her head. In the next moment, before he even realized what was happening, she broke down into tears. He didn't understand if it was something he had said or done, but he brought her closer to him nonetheless, allowing her to sob into his shoulder. He dipped his chin to gaze down at her intently, "why are you crying sweetheart?"

She sniffled deeply. "I just wish..." She shook her head, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I was thinking. I probably would have been better off now if you'd have raised me. I wouldn't have had to deal with so much shit growing up. I'm sorry. I know that I don't know you as well as I wish I did, but I can't keep this inside me any longer. I need someone to turn to."

He scowled gravely, resting his cheek on top of her head. A tear escaped the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek. He brought her closer to him, if it were possible, not wanting to let her go. Something took over inside him. A paternal instinct to shelter her from whatever doubts or old wounds she had bottled up inside. It took him a moment to find his voice, but when he did, his words came out in nothing more than a whisper. "I'm here. Whenever you need me sweetheart, I'm here." A couple more tears trickled down his cheeks. No longer was he able to hold himself together. At this point, he didn't need to hide his sensitivity from her anymore.

She gently nodded her head and sniffled deeply. "Thank you." Gently, she slipped out of his embrace and sat back in her seat. A weary sigh escaped her as she unzipped her purse and took out a tissue. Stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, she groaned as she began drying her eyes. "Ugh. I'm a mess. I can't go in there looking like this." She grumbled. "My make-up is ruined."

Christian sighed softly, taking a moment to compose himself. He looked over at her with an intent eye, scrutinizing her facial features in the same way he would a client in his office. "You look fine. In fact," he leaned in and placed a kiss to her cheek, "you look better than fine. Trust me, no one is going to notice. You're beautiful just the way you are." He smiled smugly, sat back in his seat, and straightened out his suit jacket.

She dabbed at the streaks of eyeliner beneath her eyes. Her cheeks flushed at his words. "Well thanks." A light laugh escaped her.

He nodded towards the restaurant. "Shall we?" The two exchanged a smile before they slipped out of the vehicle. The whistle of a steam boat sounded off in the distance. The sound of a bell resonated through the evening breeze. A yacht had just docked at the marina. The black porsche chirped once Christian pressed the button to lock the doors. After shoving his keys into his pocket, he turned and offered Amy his elbow just as she stepped up onto the curb. She smirked at his gesture and willingly took his arm. Together, they strolled towards the front glass doors of the extensive building, and entered the restaurant.

The architecture of the vast facility was very much designed in the tropical Florida-style atmosphere, with just a touch of Rome from the high archways and pillars. Upon walking inside, the building seemed almost as big as a high school gymnasium. The high placed ceilings created a great sense of space that almost made you feel as though you were in a palace. Not only was the restaurant huge, but it offered a breathtaking view of the marina. A sight that could be seen through the large glass windows that lined the building. The decor was unique in its own right, but there was no mistaking the state of the art sound system installed. Sting's song, "Fields Of Gold" played lightly over unseen speakers. Dozens of round tables occupied the front area of the building. There were enough tables to seat, what one could estimate, one hundred and eighty guests. Each table was covered by a white table cloth and held a tropical floral bouquet in the center. A bar sat adjacent to the main dining area on the right, and there was even a black marbel dance floor. The place was fairly crowded this Saturday night. That was no surprise to Christian.

Amy's jaw hung open when she laid eyes on everything. "Wow! This is..." She shook her head. Clearly, she didn't have words to describe it.

Christian smiled smugly. "Incredible? I know, but this is only the beginning. Wait until you try the food." A grin spread across her face. He stepped towards the hostess near the door. The man stood behind a wooden podium and wore a white dress shirt and tie. A tropical pattern was on the tie. "Christian Troy, reservation for two at eight o' clock sharp," he informed the man, the same smile never disappearing from his face.

The hostess' eyes scanned over the names scrawled on the board before him. "Ah yes, Mr. Troy. Right this way." He took two menus from the side of the podium and lead them towards their table.

Christian cringed at the way in which the man addressed him. He'd always preferred, "Dr. Troy" over "Mr. Troy." Simply because it brought back old childhood memories. Memories that he would prefer not to dredge up ever again. As much as he wanted to open up to his daughter tonight, he hoped she would not ask him any questions about his childhood.

Amy walked up the few steps to a semiprivate dining area just above the main dining area. The whole time, keeping her arm tucked under that of her father's. Her gaze darted in all directions, assessing her surroundings in astoundment. The two of them passed under a high archway and the hostess sat them down at a table positioned in front of the window, overlooking the marina. Lights shimmered from both the lamp posts and yachts drifting on the sea in the distance. It was a beautiful sight.

Christian came over and pulled out Amy's chair much to her delight. She thanked him and he took the seat across from her. Once they were seated, the hostess asked them what they wanted to drink. After they relayed their choices, the man told them a waiter would be with them shortly, and headed off in the opposite direction. Both Amy and Christian exchanged a smile before picking up their menus and scanning them.

He stole a glance at the young woman across from him. "Alone at last. Any idea about what you're going to order? Oh and don't worry about the price, sweetheart. It's not an issue in this circumstance." He smiled kindly.

She looked up from her menu with a bright smile. "Wow, ok. Thank you. Oh and no, I don't know what I want yet." She dropped her gaze back to the menu. "All I know is I want lobster and crab."

He chuckled. "You can have whatever you want at any price you want. It's not a problem."

She stole a glance around the area. "How did you manage to get us a reservation tonight? This place is practically packed."

Christian snickered. He looked over at her, his eyes narrowing in mock thought. "I have connections."

She laughed. "Oh, what? Did you guarantee them free plastic surgery or something?"

"Something like that. You are very perceptive, aren't you? Yet another quality that we both seem to share. Interesting." He grinned.

Amy giggled nervously, nodding her head. "I guess so. I mean, I'm not psychic or anything. I guess you could say, I've picked up on a few things about you since we've met."

Christian decided on what he wanted to order and set his menu down. Folding his hands on the table, he leaned closer to her. One of his brows furrowed inquisitively. "Have you? And just what might those things be?"

She brought the menu up and little higher. So high that only her eyes were peeking out. "Well, I don't have to go into detail about the whole playboy image again. Then there's the way you can be perceptive. You could tell...there was something wrong with me earlier." She cleared her throat, bringing the menu down a little. "Also, you seem like the kind of man who could get whatever her wants...no matter what. Am I right?"

He flashed her another smile and nodded. "You are _very_ good. I believe you've hit the nail right on the head."

"I thought so," she smirked. Her eyes fixated on the menu in her hands. "Hey, I guess you were right. They do have all-you-can-eat." She set her menu down before her. "I'll just get the medium all-you-can-eat. It's got both stuff I want in there anyway." She sighed softly, looking over at him.

"I told you, you wouldn't be disappointed." He noted, sitting back in his seat. A moment later, a waiter came strolling towards their table. He set down Amy's glass of Sprite and Christian's glass of champagne. Christian thanked the man, and relayed his and Amy's orders to him. The man acknowledged them on his notepad, took their menus, and walked off. "So," Christian took his eyes off of the departing man and gave his daughter his undivided attention. "I believe it's time we get to know each other a little better, don't you?"

She seemed a little hesitant but nodded her head lightly. "Yeah...I guess so."

He arched his brows expectantly, waiting for her to say something, but from the look of it, it appeared as if she were too afraid to say anything. He didn't blame her. This must have been as awkward for her as it was for him. Neither one of them knew how to start. They had both been through so much in their past. Things had happened that they did not think the other could handle. He sighed deeply, finally breaking the silence that had accumulated between them. "One of us should say something before the evening ends."

She exhaled sharply, placing her elbow on the table and leaning her cheek on her hand. "I know, I'm sorry. There's so much though. I don't even know where to begin. You have questions to ask and I have questions to ask. I just don't know where to start."

How about starting with your adoptive parents? He was tempted to ask, but felt that wouldn't be such a good topic to start out on. He had to allow her to get comfortable with him. She probably wouldn't reveal anything of that nature until she had. He cleared his throat. "All right, allow me. How long have you lived in South Beach?"

"Not long." She shook her head. "Actually, we've only been here a month. My...mom's boyfriend wanted to. He thought he'd find a better chance of employment out here. I originally grew up in West Hollywood, California."

He nodded his head as he lifted his glass up to his lips to take a swig. He set it back down with a smirk. "Hollywood, huh? Home to all the stars? Big city. Did you live next door to Brad Pitt?"

She laughed with a roll of her eyes. "No. I don't think I would have even cared if I were living next to Brad Pitt. He's not my type anyway."

Christian scoffed. "And why would he be? You are after all a Troy. You could do a lot better." A grin spread across his face.

She laughed once again. "I know I could." Her laughter died down, a woeful sigh escaping her. "I don't really see why he couldn't have found employment in L.A. I guess he was just lazy. I never thought that in moving here...I would find...you." She gave him a small smile.

He turned somber once she spoke those last words, a lump forming in his throat. His heart constricted in his chest, wishing that he had only found her sooner. He swallowed the lump and sighed softly. "Believe me, I never thought I would find you either. I never imagined..." His voice trailed off. Gazing into her eyes caused his emotions to begin rising to the surface. He pursed his lips, trying mercifully not to lose it again.

Amy chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. It seemed as if she were on the brink of losing her composure as well. "I know," she spoke softly.

He took in a breath to compose himself before moving on to his next question. "How long have your parents been divorced?"

She sighed deeply. "Eight years. I don't really like to think about it or even talk about it."

He nodded his head lightly, knowing what she must be going through. "Well, if it makes you feel any better...I was adopted too." Her eyes widned in astoundment, bewilderment crossing her face. He found himself pushing another lump down in his throat before getting up the strength to continue. "I never knew my parents. Not their faces. Not even their names. My foster father..." His heart pounded in his chest as he held tight to his emotions already drifting to the surface. "Treated me like shit. At the time, I didn't have anything. Anyone. When he took me in...I never imagined what I'd be walking into. I never saw it coming. He never took pity on me. I was nothing but a pawn to him."

She listened to him in sorrow. Tears were already welling up in her eyes. The look that registered on her face was concern and pain. It was almost as if she could put herself in his position. He did not think much of her reaction as he was too absorbed in the painful memories of his past.

He cleared his throat, stole a glance around the area to make sure no one was listening in, and lowered his voice to a tone that only she would hear. He sighed deeply, averting his eyes to the table before them. "By the time I was eighteen, the son of a bitch was thrown in jail on molestation charges." He bit back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. "Suffice to say, I should have forgotten all about the bastard and moved on with my life. I tried, but it took me a long time to realize he can't touch me anymore." He gradually lifted his gaze back up to her, noticing not only that her eyes were averted to her lap, but she looked as if she were crying. "Hey. Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

She sniffled softly, gradually lifting her chin up and meeting his inquisitive gaze. "My..." Her bottom lip trembled with on coming tears. She shook her head and looked back down at her lap. "My adoptive father...wasn't so nice to me either. As much as I try to forget about him...he won't leave me alone."

His jaw hung open in astoundment, his brows furrowing in thought. What was she talking about? Was this man harassing her? He had to know more. "What?"

She pursed her lips, bringing one of her hands up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Keeping her tone at the same tone he had used earlier, she leaned a little closer to him before speaking. "When I was growing up, he...he use to beat me." Her voice broke with emotion. "He would hit me with a belt or...just his hands. Not just me, but my mom too. He would...make threats to us. Sometimes we had to even stay at a motel, somewhere he wouldn't find us." The tears began streaming down her cheeks, pausing to try and compose herself.

Christian couldn't believe everything that he was hearing. The assumptions he'd had about her before had been true. Whoever this man was, it was possible that he was hurting his daughter, and had been doing it for years. Fury began rising inside him. Not only fury but remorse. He wanted to find this man, wherever he was, and he wanted to beat the shit out of him. No one was going to hurt his daughter and get away with it. Not if he had anything to do about it. He took a deep breath to calm his emotions, keeping his gaze locked on her melancholy form. He shook his head. "That son of a bitch," he murmured. His eyes narrowed in consideration, "is this guy still around? Is he still hurting you like this?"

She wiped the stray tears from her eyes, looked up at him and shook her head. "No. Well, I mean, he's not dead, but he doesn't live here, or even in California anymore. He lives in New York now. He still calls me every now and then, but he's not here. I wish he'd _stop_ calling me. Then again, there's nothing I can really do about it. He still thinks he's my..." She paused. Christian blinked, already knowing what was coming. "My father. I never thought of him as my father, ever since he treated me like that, and I never will. I hate him. I hate the way he gets to me."

His gaze turned stone cold with his next words. "Is he still making threats to you?"

She seemed to hesitate at that question but finally shook her head. "No."

He sighed in frustration. "Don't lie to me. If this asshole is still harassing you, you need to tell me."

She shook her head more firmly than before. "He's not. Don't worry, I would tell you if he was, but he's not." Finally, she picked up her glass of Sprite and took a long sip. Long enough that he could not ask her anymore questions. At least for the time being.

Christian sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, averting his eyes to something else in the room. A long sigh escaped him. Soon enough, he found his gaze traveling back to her. He might be perceptive, but at the moment, he couldn't tell if she was lying to him or if she was genuinely telling him the truth. He may have passed his perceptive nature down to her. Then again, she could also be a skillful actress. There really was no way of telling _what_ was going on in that head of hers, but he sure wished he could find out.


	20. The Truth Shall Set You Free

Matt McNamara walked hand in hand with Courtney up the front walkway towards the South Beach home. The home he shared with his parents, Sean and Julia. He and Courtney had decided to catch a movie and grab a bite to eat at the nearest chinese food place. As much as he loved her, he couldn't help but feel that there was something missing from their relationship. Sure, the physical intimacy was there, but from the way things had been lately, he couldn't help but feel that he was right back at square one. Courtney Price seemed much like another Vanessa. She wouldn't make love to him unless he was up to par. He loved her and he did not want to let her go, but he couldn't help second guessing himself as they arrived back at his house. Would anything happen tonight? Would she ever be comfortable with anything more?

"Tonight was great," Courtney leaned in and nibbled at his ear, much to his delight. "We have to do this again. Hey, maybe next time, we could find seats in the back of the theater and make-out."

Matt chuckled. "What's the point in paying for the movie then?"

She shrugged her shoulders with a light laugh. "It was just an idea. To be honest, I was watching _you_ tonight more than I was watching Tom Cruise."

His cheeks flushed bashfully. "Oh please. I can't compete with him. All the chicks are head over heels for the guy already."

She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Mmm, not this one."

He didn't know if she was just saying that so she wouldn't bruise his ego or if she actually meant it. Either way, it still made him feel good. Turning the knob on the front glass door of his house, he stepped inside. She kept her hand in his as she followed him inside. His father Sean was entering the kitchen when the two came in.

Sean paused at the refrigerator when he laid eyes on the two. "Matt. You're late for dinner. Where were you?"

Matt exchanged a look with Courtney before looking back at his father. "Just hanging out. We went to the movies then grabbed a bite to eat at the Chinese food place up the street." Sean nodded, his eyes shifting towards Courtney in bewilderment. Matt figured now was as good a time as any to introduce her to his father. After all, either he or his mom would find out eventually if they walked in on the two of them making-out or doing...something else. It surely wouldn't be the first time. "Dad? This is Courtney. Courtney? This is my dad."

Sean stepped forward and extended his hand to the young woman, a friendly smile crossing his face. "It's nice to meet you, Courtney."

She willingly shook his hand with a smirk. "You too, Mr. McNamara." Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "Wait. You wouldn't by any chance have a business with a guy named Christian, would you?"

The same bewildered and questioning looks passed between Matt and Sean. What she was getting at, he had no clue. She had mentioned before about a guy named, Christian, but the idea that she had been talking about his uncle never crossed his mind. Why was she posing this question to his father? What did she have to do with Christian? These questions and a million more filled Matt's head. He had no clue what was going on, but he wanted to know and soon. Did this have any connection to her not wanting to have sex with him? A migraine began taking form in his head.

"Yes, I do actually. Christian Troy. He's my partner. We have a business in cosmetic surgery, McNamara/Troy. I assume you've heard of us." Sean's brows arched expectantly.

Matt exchanged a look with Courtney, who was blushing at his father's words.

"Well, actually...yeah. I've seen your ads before and I had a friend who had some work done so...I guess you could say I've heard of you." She laughed nervously.

Sean nodded his head in understanding. "I see. Well our practice _is_ one of the most successful in South Beach, Florida so I suppose it would be difficult not to. Word travels fast."

It sure does, Matt thought to himself, his eyes shifting to Courtney.

Sean's brows furrowed inquisitively, "it's funny. Matt's never mentioned you before. Do you go to school together? Share the same class?"

Matt sighed softly, wishing he could have made these introductions before. He already knew this was coming. "No, dad. She goes to the university. We met through Gretchen."

"Ah yes, Gretchen. Of course." Sean looked from his son to Courtney, a bewildered expression on his face now. "I'm sorry. I'm a little confused. I spoke with someone named, Amy, today in Christian's office. She said she met Matt through a girl named, Courtney. I'm assuming that's you."

Courtney's face brightened. "Yeah! Amy Gellar, we're best friends. We go to school together."

Sean nodded his head. "That would explain it." He cringed with a deep sigh. "Sorry. Long day at work."

Matt grasped Courtney's hand in his with a squeeze and started past his father. He had been waiting rather impatiently as it was to get her alone, and he did not want to waste anymore time. "We're going to head upstairs, dad. I'll see ya later."

"All right. It was nice meeting you, Courtney."

Courtney glanced over her shoulder at the man, "nice meeting you too, Mr. McNamara." Matt and her climbed the staircase to the second floor, disappearing into his room a moment later. A smirk crossed her face. "In a hurry, are we?" She stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and began to kiss it. "If you wanted to be alone that bad, you could have told me." She giggled.

As much as he was tempted to kiss and respond to her touch, he couldn't get his mind off of the questions that were plaguing his mind. He turned his head away from her, took her hand and sat himself down on the edge of his bed. "We have to talk."

Her brows furrowed in bafflement as she dropped down beside him. "About what? Did I...did I do something wrong?"

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. The palms of his hands rubbed against one another. He didn't even know where to begin. Then, before he could form a coherent thought, the words escaped him. "Are you seeing another guy?"

"What? No! Of course not. Why would you think that? No, better yet, what would _make_ you think that?"

Matt sighed irritably. "The last time we saw each other, Amy called you. You told me she had a crush on some guy named, Christian. Now you come here tonight and ask my dad if he works with the guy."

"So?"

He turned his head to look over at her. The thought occured to him that she was involved with his uncle, but that was ridiculous, wasn't it? She was half his age. Why would she be cheating on him with Christian? It didn't make any sense. "So, if you're not cheating on me, what the hell is your obsession with this guy?"

For a long moment, Courtney didn't say anything, but Matt had a vile fieeling about what she would say next. She might as well drive the knife in his heart and get it over with.

"Ok, you want the honest to God truth? I'll tell you." An irritable sigh escaped her. Turning towards him, she gave him her undivided attention. "I don't have any type of obsession with this guy whatsoever. The only reason I asked about him tonight was because Amy knows him. Or at least, she knows of him now. The reason being...he's her birth father. A couple days ago, she told me she had found out who her birth parents were, and the moment she found out, she went in search of this Christian guy. You could imagine my surprise to hear that he worked with your dad. I had no idea. I'm not sleeping with him. I'm not even dating him. If anything, I was trying to be a good friend to Amy. That's all."

"Whoa! Hang on a minute." He sat up and turned towards her with a bewildered expression. "Are you telling me that my uncle is Amy's father?"

"Is his name Christian Troy?"

"Yeah."

"Then I guess the answer is 'yes.' Wait. If Christian is your uncle than that would make you...Amy's cousin, wouldn't it?"

He shook his head. "He's not my biological uncle, but he and my dad are so close that my sister, Annie and I have come to think of him as our uncle. Why didn't you tell me before?" There were so many more questions arising in Matt's mind. He understood why he had yet to hear about her from Christian, but why hadn't his father told him? Had he barely found out about Amy too? It was weird to say the least. If Amy was Christian's daughter, she could almost be his cousin...almost. Everything was still sinking in. He didn't know _how_ to react in this situation. Mainly because it was all new to him.

"Well, for one thing, I didn't know how you'd react. Second of all, Amy is my best friend. I couldn't possibly tell you her business when she barely knows you. She would get pissed at me, which I'm sure she will when she finds out I've now told you about it." She sighed wearily. "Look, Matt...if you see Amy again, try not to give her a hard time about it. The last I heard, she was having a harder time with _him_."

"Why would I give her a hard time about it? I hardly know her. The least I can do is be her friend."

Courtney leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm just saying, if you were to run into her, you might not want to bring it up. I doubt you'll see her before I do, but in the off chance that you do, she might get mad at you and I would hate for that to happen. I don't want her to get mad at _you_ for something that _I _did."

"In that case, I won't even mention it."

She wrapped her arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you about this. Amy didn't want anyone else to know. It was just suppose to be between us."

Matt sighed softly, stealing a glance down at her. "No. I'm glad you told me."

Courtney exhaled deeply. "I'm worried. I haven't heard from her all day. I sure hope this guy hasn't corrupted her so much that she'd do something to herself."

"He's not as bad as you might think he is, and he's not just a guy, he's my uncle. I've known him my whole life. Anyway, why would he corrupt Amy? He's her dad. He's always been like a second father to me. You gotta give him a chance. He can surprise you sometimes." Matt's words came straight from his heart. Having known Christian as long as he had, he never understood why so many people, including his parents, came down on him for the things he said and did. There were things in Christian that Matt and Annie saw that others could not. Amy had nothing to worry about in Matt's mind. He imagined that Christian would treat her with the same love and loyalty that he did him. Why wouldn't he?

* * *

Amy cracked open her second crab leg and gobbled up the meat inside with a plentiful moan. She jabbed her fork into the shell and scooped out another piece of meat, dipping it into her butter dish, shutting her eyes and savoring the taste. She had never tasted anything so delicious before. This was the reason she loved lobster and crab so much. The taste was amazing. She couldn't recall the last time she had tasted something so good. Upon opening her eyes, she immediately noticed the weird look Christian was giving her.

"When was the last time you had a decent meal, sweetheart?"

Her cheeks flushed in mortification. Had she made a fool of herself already? She felt like an idiot. A light laugh escaped her as she tossed the empty shell aside. "Sorry." She sighed wearily. "My mom never takes me out to eat anymore. At least not to these expensive restaurants. If anything, she goes more places with her boyfriend than she does me, and if we ever _do_ go out to eat, it's usually some place cheap like Denny's."

"My God." He scoffed. "It's a good thing I brought you out when I did." He picked up one of his oysters and sucked on it insanitably.

This time, it was she who got the weird look on her face. She already knew that this man craved sex. It was a trait that was apparent to anyone who came within six feet of him, but did he have to perpetuate it in everything he did? For example, sucking on an oyster? The last thing she wanted to think about right now was her father doing the dirty. Perhaps she was being paranoid. Should the way he ate mean anything to her? She shrugged it off as nothing, figuring it was only the movies and television shows she watched that were corrupting her mind. "So..." She dropped her gaze to her plate, picking at the rice with her fork. "About that whole thing with you having another child..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes traveling back up to him.

Christian paused in taking a drink of his champagne. A deep sigh escaped him. Taking a quick gulp, he placed his glass back down and turned his attention to her. "I suppose now is as good a time as any." He extracted a piece of meat from his lobster tail, shoved it in his mouth and chewed it up. He reached for his napkin, swallowed, and wiped his mouth. "It's better we get everything out in the open now to prevent future arguements, don't you agree?"

She nodded gently, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest, not knowing exactly what was going to come from him. She was half dreading it and half praying her previous assumptions would be proved false. "Yeah." Inhaling deeply, she waited patiently for him to begin.

"About a year ago, I met a woman named, Gina." He stole a glance around the area, leaned in a little closer and lowered his tone of voice. "At a Sexaholics Anonymous seminar, and upon meeting her, we slept together. Little did I know that she was nothing but a bitter psychotic bitch, looking for someone to save her from the whore she's now become. About a week later, she came to me and told me she was pregnant with _my_ baby." He sighed sadly. "Or at least I thought it was my baby at the time. So I did what any other suitable father would do. I took care of him up until the time he was born. Upon her conceiving, I realized...I wasn't the father. While any other person would have walked away, I wasn't about to abandon him. I protected him with my life. I loved him with every part of my soul, and I fought for the legal right to be his guardian. God knows he would have been better off with me than Gina, but ultimately...we both ended up losing him."

Her heart constricted in her chest listening to the whole story. Not so much the harshness of it, but from the emotion she saw present on his face as he spoke of it. The glossy appearance of his eyes and the way his voice seemed to tremble slightly. It was evident he was still overcoming the anguish of it all. No wonder he had such a hard time accepting her into his life. Suddenly, everything made sense. The spitefulness he exuded upon her at the beginning, the instinctive denial, followed by anger. They were all stages of the grieving process. She didn't blame him for treating her that way. It was a relief to hear his side of the story. If she had heard it from Kimber, who knows what she might have said to mislead the situation. She fought for a suitable way to respond to his story. Could she say something without hurting his feelings? She'd have to try.

Pushing the lump down in her throat, she spoke softly. "I'm sorry...that you had to go through that. I can see why you'd have a hard time with me showing up like this."

He shook his head. "No need for you to apologize, sweetheart. You didn't know." He sighed woefully, sat back in his seat and cleared his throat. "If anything, I should be apologizing to you. In the beginning, I was a major asshole to you, and for that I'm sorry."

Had this guy not been her father, she would have admitted it, but for now, she shrugged it off as if it had meant nothing, "it's ok. I understand why you acted the way you did. I probably would have been the same way." He sent her a small smile before taking up his glass and gulping down a bit of champagne. She bit down on her bottom lip, still inquisitive about some things. "What was his name?"

He paused in his meal to look up at her. She scowled, noticing him struggle to get a handle on his emotions which he did fairly well. "His name was Wilbur."

She nodded in understanding. "Do you still talk to that Gina person?"

He scoffed. "And waste my time getting hen-pecked? Shit no."

A smile tugged played at the corners of her mouth, "did she really become a prostitute?"

He was about to repond to her question when a Caucasian woman approached their table. She looked to be in her late twenties, petite, with wavy shoulder length blonde hair, large blue eyes, aquiline nose and honey colored complexion. The woman's gaze fixated immediately on Christian. Her hands were firmly planted on her curvy waistline. A waist that made the slinky black cocktail dress cling to her in all the right places.

"Hey asshole. If you wanted crabs, you could have gone to any cheap whore within a five mile radius."

A look of bewilderment crossed Amy's features. Who was this woman? What was she doing here? More importantly, why was she acting like a bitch to her father? Did she know him? She exchanged a look with Christian before he looked up at the woman. That familiar smug smile crossed his face.

"Well, speak of the devil."

Amy's eyes widened in astonishment. It couldn't be, could it? She looked from Christian to the the woman then back to Christian. "Is this..." Her voice trailed off, allowing him to figure out what she was thinking.

He stole a glance at her. "Gina?" He cleared his throat, leaned forward and threw his napkin down. "Unfortunetly."

Amy blinked back her surprise as Gina's eyes darted towards her. A look of vexation on her face.

"And who's this? Another one of your repetitive one night stands?" Gina tilted her head to one side. "Let me be the first to tell you that going to bed with Christian would be a colossal mistake. Save yourself the trouble." She looked back at a peevish Christian. "He's not worth it. In fact, he's not worth shit."

His eyes narrowed to an icy glare as did Amy's. "Apparently I _was_ worth shit, seeing as how I slept with _you_. She's not my God damn one night stand, Gina. She's my daughter!"

Gina turned her head back to Amy, her face expressionless. For a moment, all she did was stare at her until finally she exuded a scoff and looked back at him. "Is that what you're calling them these days, Christian? You already blew it with Wilbur and now you're calling them your daughters? Honestly, how much lower can you stoop?"

His gaze remained hard. He almost looked like a bull ready to charge. Amy looked at her father. She looked at Gina. She looked at her father again. Finally, her eyes settled on Gina. She took in a breath to calm her temper. Then, before she could surpress it from happening, the words escaped her. "Listen bitch, I don't know what problem you have with my father, but I'm not going to sit here and let you talk shit to him. I know what happened between you two and frankly, I can see why he wouldn't waste anymore of his time. He's not worth it? Sorry, but I think you have it backwards. _You're_ not worth it. Christian _is_ my father, and whether you believe it or not, he's a great father. He accepts me for who I am, not what I look like. I didn't have to screw him to get respect. So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave us alone and let us eat in peace."

Christian's brows arched in astoundment. It was clear that her rebuttal had taken him completely by storm. She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously, hoping that he would not be upset with her for it. Suddenly, a cocky grin crept across his face. He looked at her and then at Gina, crossing his arms comfortably over his chest. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

The blank look that had been on Gina's face instantly disappeared. A scoff escaped her as she looked between the pair before her. "Well, I can see you've inherited his nature for being an arrogant prick. Like father like daughter."

"It could have been worse. She could have inherited your bitter self-loathing demeanor, which, given my experience, is a trait that most men do not find appealing. Luckily, she was born a Troy so she shouldn't have any problems attracting men."

Amy's cheeks flushed at his words. Mostly out of motification. Her love life was the last thing she wanted to think about right now. She had never been able to get a boyfriend, so why should she think being his daughter would change her? It was impossible. She simply did not exude as much confidence as he did. Perhaps he could help her out in that department. She shot Gina another glare, wondering how long she would remain standing there. Her patience was wearing thin. This was the last thing she needed right now.

"Screw you Christian!" Gina snapped before pivoting on her heels, and stalking off in the opposite direction.

Christian sat forward and scoffed. "Been there, done that."

Amy watched the woman depart, thanking God her father had been the one to shut her up once and for all. She shook her head in disbelief. "What a bitch!"

He sighed wearily, his eyes falling back on his daughter. "As I was saying." He reached for his glass of champagne, took a quick swig, and set it back down on the table. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Frankly, it would have been better left for a Jerry Springer segment."

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Although she was in no way delighted that that woman had interrupted and potentially ruined their dinner, it still felt good to bitch her out. Especially when she did not get lectured by her father, as most daughters probably would. He had actually supported her opinions and for that, she felt blessed. "It's ok. I can be pretty opinionated given the chance, and I can't stand for people to talk shit about my friends or anyone I love."

He seemed to freeze at her choice of words, staring at her as if he didn't know how to respond. He was speechless. She knew that "love" might have been a strong phrase to use so early in their relationship, but she did love him. She sure as hell didn't consider her adoptive father worthy of love, and she never would. He could pester her all he wanted to over the phone, but he would never add up to Christian. No one would. So what if he wasn't perfect. These days, no one was perfect. She was tempted to apologize for saying she loved him. Then, she realized that saying she didn't would probably be ten times worse than saying she did. So she decided she'd just change the subject.

"Florida is definitely a lot different than California. I mean, there's more beaches here. Of course it might be just me, but I've only been to one beach in particular when I lived in Los Angeles. At least they have a Universal Studios and Disneyworld here. I've always wanted to go to Disneyworld." She sighed woefully. "That is, if I had the money and my mom actually took time away from her boyfriend to take me."

"You've never been to Disneyworld? Not once?" His words were more in the form of a statement rather than a question. She shook her head. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I'd been there myself."

She didn't think a man of his kind would be caught dead there in the first place. Still, if she were to go to Disneyworld, or any amusement part for that matter, she would prefer it be with him than anyone else. She knew what would happen if she'd let her mother take her. They'd end up getting into a fight at some point and causing a scene. She'd spend the rest of the day miserable. If only Christian was as carefree as most fathers were. If he'd only let his barriers down long enough to have fun...outside the bedroom of course. Cracking open another one of her crab legs, she scooped out another piece of meat and shoved it in her mouth, running out of things to say. Ever since Gina showed up, things had become awkward. She was reaching for her glass when he finally broke the silence that had accumulated between them, with words she did not expect to hear.

"I'll take you."

She blinked back her astonishment. Was she actually hearing this? Her brows furrowed inquisitively. At first, her brain couldn't process what he was referring to. "Take me where?"

"To Disneyworld."

"You'd do that? For me? I mean, I know its not exactly a place you'd want to be seen in..."

He sighed softly. "I'll admit, it's not a place most men as refined as myself would frequent, but you're my daughter. If it means that much to you and it'll make you happy, we'll go." He smirked at her and reached for his champagne glass.

Now it was _her_ who was speechless. She chewed on her bottom lip fretfully, tilting her head to one side to better scrutinize his features. "I couldn't ask you to do that. You've got this whole image thing going on. I wouldn't want to force you into taking me there. Someone you know could show up and then it would ruin you or something."

He shook his head. "You're not forcing me into anything, sweetheart. I'm offering. Believe me, there's not a chance in hell that anyone _I _know will be there. The only way you could ruin me is if you turn me down. I'm proposing a father and daughter outing. I'd expect you to be thrilled."

"I am. I guess I didn't think you were entirely serious."

He picked up another one of his oysters and sucked on it before tossing it aside. "If I wasn't serious, I wouldn't have offered."

She nodded in understanding. "So, when can we go?"

He cleared his throat. "I'll have to check my schedule, but as soon as I have a day off, _you_ will be the first to know. Not to worry, I will _make_ time for you." He smiled reassuringly before going back to his meal.

His last words warmed her heart. Finally, someone who actually cared enough to spend time with her. Someone who actually _wanted_ to see her happy. This was the way it should always be. She felt as though she had lost touch with her mother ever since Chris came along. It seemed as if she didn't care anymore. Why was Chris so much more important to her? All these thoughts about her adoptive mother made her inquisitive about something else. "Can I ask you something?"

He swallowed the piece of food in his mouth and lifted his eyes to meet with hers. "Sure, ask away."

Her heart drummed in her chest madly, trying mercilessly to push the words out of her throat. "How come...you never mentioned my mother? My _biological_ mother, Danielle."

Christian froze. He sighed deeply, dropping his gaze to his lap. Suddenly, she didn't feel so content with hearing what he had to say. She could tell by his lack of eye contact that there was something he was hiding, but what? Gradually, he brought his eyes back to her, gazing at her as if debating about how he should start. "I hate to break this to you, sweetheart, but your mother, as bitter and defensive as she's become, has made a selfish decision and abdicated her maternal role. Believe me, I tried to get her to come to senses, but no amount of groveling could take her away from her mediocre life."

She nodded her head gently, still a little bewildered as to what he was getting at. "So, are you saying she doesn't want to see me?"

He scowled. "I'm so sorry sweetheart."

She should have known. When she'd first found out who her real parents were, the thought occured to her that they might not want to be found. Or even worse, that they'd want nothing to do with her. She was lucky enough that she had been wrong about Christian. At least he came around...in time. She had been slightly hopeful about her real mother. Slightly. Thinking that she would be any different than her foster mother was wishful thinking. At least she knew the truth now. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Picking up her fork, she began picking at the crab legs on her plate. "It's ok. It's not like I got my hopes up or anything. It's fine, I really don't care. I mean..." She looked back up at him, forcing a small smile. "I still have you so it doesn't matter."

There was still a trace of sadness on his face, but the corners of his mouth managed to turn up into a smile. "That's right. It doesn't matter. Just as long as you know that it's not your fault. It's not your fault that your mother turned into a selfish bitch, and it's not your fault that you got stuck with the mother you have now. I'm your father, and you're my daughter. All we need is each other."

She pursed her lips to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. How could she have been so wrong about this man? How could she have found him to be an asshole? There was no trace of vexation between them. He honestly cared for her and wanted her with him. Try as she might to hold back her emotions, she suddenly felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. The tune of LeAnn Rimes', "I Need You" began playing lightly over the restaurant. Upon recognizing what song it was, it only caused her tears to grow.

Christian heard the song as well, and nothing could have prepared her for what would happen next. He turned his head to look over at the dance floor across the building where two couples were swaying gently to the tune. He turned back and looked over at her. She had a feeling what he was going to ask her, but she wasn't certain until he reached over, took her hand, and brought her up to her feet. "Come on." The two of them rid themselves of their jackets, and in the next second, Christian lead Amy down to the dance floor, the two of them walking hand in hand.

She brought her freehand up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, but once they reached the floor, Christian did it for her. A soft smile crossed her face at his gesture. He gently smiled back and took her into his arms, his chin resting on top of her head. In seconds, they too began swaying to the heaven scent tune. The tears streamed down her cheeks as Amy clung to him, much in the same way a small child would to their father. She hadn't felt this safe in a long time, and as they danced, she knew that no one could hurt her. As long as she was in Christian's arms, not one person could lay a hand on her. Not even her foster father.

_I don't need a lot of things_

_I can get by with nothin'_

_With all the blessings life can bring_

_I've always needed something_

_But I've got all I want when it comes to lovin' you_

_You're my only reason, you're my only truth_

_I need you, like water, like breath, like rain_

_I need you like mercy from Heaven's gate_

_There's a freedom in your arms, that carries me through_

_I need you_

The words of the song were so beautiful and so perfect for this moment. She needed him, and she could feel that he needed her too. She knew that this moment in time had to be a big transition for him. A new beginning. Her arms grew more compact around his waist as he urged her closer. It felt as if he were holding on to her for fear she would slip away. Almost as if she were a mirage in the desert that he couldn't get close enough to. She sniffled softly and trembled lightly against his chest. There was no mistaking that he was on the verge of crying as well. She could feel him tremble just the same, and she could have sworn she felt his heart beating rhythmically against his chest.

_Oh_

_You're the hope that moves me_

_To courage again, oh yeah_

_You're the love that rescues me_

_When the cold winds rage_

_And it's so amazin' cause that's just how you are_

_And I can't turn back now_

_Cause you've brought me too far_

Her heart drummed madly inside her chest. Another tear slid down her cheek as she felt him plant a paternal kiss on top of her head. She couldn't believe that for the last few years, she thought she wouldn't feel complete until she had a boyfriend. What had she been thinking? She didn't need a boyfriend to feel special. All she needed right now was a father. A father that wanted to shelter her from the harsh memories of her past. A father that wanted to rebuild those memories into new ones. Pleasant ones. Gently, she pulled back but not entirely. Only to make it easier for them to dance, and for her to finally meet his gaze. She had been right. There were tears in his eyes.

_I need you, like water, like breath, like rain_

_I need you like mercy from Heaven's gate_

_There's a freedom in your arms, that carries me through_

_I need you_

_Oh, yes I do, oh_

"I didn't know you could dance," was all she could say.

He smirked. "You never asked."

She laughed lightly. "You know, if I were to ever get married, this could be our song for our father/daughter dance."

He leaned in, planting a kiss on top of her head and another on her forehead, bringing her closer as he did so. "You're right, but there's still plenty of time for that. You're only nineteen, sweetheart. Marriage is the last thing you want to rush into. Besides, you're going to need a boyfriend before you even get that far."

She nodded her head gently. "I know." A soft sigh escaped her as she urged herself closer, resting her head on his chest once again. He leaned his cheek on the top of her head. The two of them continued to sway to the soft melody that ended a moment later. When the song was over, she stepped back and looked up into his eyes. They exchanged a soft smile, neither one of them needing to speak another word. Taking her hand in his, Christian lead her back up to their table. "Thank you."

He turned his head and looked over at her, one of his brows furrowing slightly. "For what?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, a smug smile crossing her face. Oddly enough, when she smiled that way, she truly resembled him. "For the dance. For everything...so far."

Reaching their table, he stopped and turned towards her. He leaned down and placed a kiss to her cheek. A tender smile crept across his lips. "It's been a pleasure."

* * *

Christian drove towards Amy's two-story, victorian and modern style home. He had to admit that this had been the best night he'd had in a long time. Well, ever since Wilbur had come along. Of course he didn't fancy Gina coming along and ruining their dinner, but no amount of bitterness or vexation on her part was going to spoil his chance at fatherhood. He'd struggled to move past the shit she'd put him through. Now he was all about new beginnings. He had learned a lot about his daughter tonight. In fact, while they'd finished their meals, she even filled him in on her many hidden talents. She was not only a pro at singing, but acting, writing, and dancing. The acting part she could have inherited from him. Sure, he could shell out more than his share of bullshit when need be, and from what he had noticed, so could she. He still had yet to hear this amazing singing voice of hers, but he decided he could wait for that.

As he drove on towards his destination, he couldn't fight the feeling that was still plaguing him. There was something inside him that told him she had not told him everything. _Something_ was bugging her, but the question was...what? Stealing a glance over at her, he suspected an ounce of regret laid behind her weary expression. He was tempted to ask what was wrong when the sound of a celluar ringing broke the silence between them. At first he'd thought it was his, but when he heard the modern rock ringtone, he knew that it was hers. Who would have known she'd be into rock? He had her pegged as a soft rock type. The kind of girl who owned all of Mariah Carey and Celine Dion's albums.

Amy stole a glance at him before reaching into her purse. Fishing out the handheld device, she scanned over the caller ID. A woeful sigh escaped her. She cursed under her breath, pressed a button on the phone to silence it, and dropped it back into her purse. Brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face, she sat back in the seat and shut her eyes.

Having witnessed what had just happened, his inquisitive mind got the best of him. Why did she seem so upset over that call? "Either that was a wrong number, or you must really not want to talk to someone."

Her eyes came open and she exchanged a look with him. She scowled, giving him a shrug. "It's not a big deal. If you really want to know, it was someone I hate. Someone who doesn't deserve even a minute of my time." She sighed deeply.

He had a vague idea of who she could be referring to, but then again, he could be wrong. An irritable sigh escaped him. "Was it him?"

"Who?"

He didn't know if he could even utter the words, but after a moment, he was able to get them out. "Your foster father."

She sighed deeply, chewing on her bottom lip apprehensively. "Yeah, but I wasn't planning on talking to him or even answering. Frankly, I could care less."

Well, one good thing, he didn't have to worry about her talking to her foster father about him. She truly hated him. Regardless of that fact, there was still something plaguing him about the man. From the story she had relayed to him earlier, he didn't trust this guy any further than he could throw him. He might not be anywhere near his daughter at the moment, but if he ever thought to come back, Christian didn't know what he'd do. One thing was for sure, he wasn't about to let the man anywhere near her. "Does he call you often?"

She shrugged lightly. "Not that much. Just every now and then."

He didn't quite believe her, but he decided he'd let it slide for now. For the next few minutes, the two of them drove in quiet, not a word spoken between them. When Christian pulled up a couple houses down from her residence, he put the car in park, shut off the engine, and turned towards her. His eyes trailed over her figure, suddenly realizing he hadn't taken the time to notice her ensemble before. "I know I never got a chance to say it before, but you did look beautiful tonight, sweetheart." He smiled softly.

She flushed at his remark, a smirk crossing her face. "Thanks. I bought these clothes with the money you gave me today. I never realized how good it would feel to walk into a mall with money in your pocket." A light laugh escaped her.

He chuckled. "And that's only one of the perks that comes with being my daughter," he beamed. "Of course, you'll ultimately have to get a job yourself. You do realize that."

She nodded her head with a scowl. "I know. Believe me, I've been reminded more than enough times. Um...I hate to ask, but I thought about going back to the mall tomorrow to get something I wanted, do you think you could...?" She exhaled sharply. "Shit. What am I doing? I can't just bum money from you whenever I want to. You've done more than enough for me already."

He sighed softly, reaching under his suit jacket and pulling out his wallet. "Sweetheart, we went over this. I don't have a problem with it. That's what fathers are for, so..." He slipped some fifty dollar bills out of his wallet and thrust them her way. "I'm hoping that will last you at least a week."

Her eyes widened at the bills in her hand. "Five hundred dollars! You're giving me five hundred dollars!"

What did she want? More? He sighed in frustration. "How about a thousand? Is that enough for you?"

She was quick to reply. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. I mean, I'm surprised. Earlier today, you only gave me two hundred, and now _five hundred_? You really don't have to give me this much."

"Consider it a token of my affection. I have to give you credit for that little scene you caused with Gina back there. I've never seen anyone succeed in putting that bitch in her place. I must say, I was impressed. Good job." The corners of his mouth twisted into a smile.

She laughed lightly, folded up the cash and shoved it into her coat pocket. "Thanks. Ugh, she just pissed me off. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to say something. Then again, I've always been outspoken."

"I can tell."

A weary sigh escaped her, stealing a glance at the passenger's side window before turning back to him. She looked as if she were contemplating what to do next, but nothing prepared him for what she was about to do. Leaning in, she placed a kiss to his cheek and smiled softly. "Thank you. Not just for the money, but for tonight. It was really sweet. I really needed this tonight. Thank you."

His heart warmed at both her gesture and her words. If he could make her happy, his job was done. He felt complete. Not only as a man but as a father. Bringing joy into your child's life was something he would not take for granted. If anything, he would make it his mission to do more things such as this for her. If neither one of her parents was going to make the effort, by damn, he would. Leaning in, he gave her cheek a kiss of his own. "It was my pleasure, sweetheart."

"So...I guess I better go. My mom kind of gave me a curfew."

He nodded his head. That didn't surprise him. If it were up to him, he'd let her stay out as late as she wanted. "I'll give you a call sometime tomorrow."

She nodded her head with a small smile, grabbed her purse, and opened the passengers' side door. "Okay. Good night."

"Take care of yourself, sweetheart." He watched her as she slipped out of the vehicle, shut the door, and started up towards her residence. A tender smile crept across his face. It had been a long and interesting night to say the least, but it had been one of the best nights he'd had in a long time. Sex and Gina's unexpected interruption aside. He hadn't felt this whole or this free ever since Wilbur. Amy had been right. Not only did she benefit from tonight's outing, but so did he. As much as he wanted these moments between them to continue, he couldn't stop the nagging feeling inside of him that told him things were about to change...in a big way.


	21. Friend Or Foe?

Some might say that money burned a hole in her pocket, but Amy didn't care. After her father had given her as much money as he had the night before, she simply had to spend it. After all, there _were_ a few things she had seen at the mall that she just _had_ to get. As spoiled as she had grown up to be, she couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty asking Christian for money. Of course he had told her it was all right, but there was still a nagging feeling inside of her. Maybe if she had a job, she wouldn't feel so dependent on other people for cash. _What am I going to do with myself?_ She asked herself, pulling into the large parking structure for Aventura Mall. A shopping center located just a couple blocks away from the McNamara/Troy offices.

If she felt retched asking for money from her father now, what would happen in the future? She shuddered to think about their first big father/daughter fight. There were undoubtedly going to be squabbles between them. Maybe even more than once. Recalling back to their trip to Dade County, she considered that incident foreshadowing future events. Then again, they were both bitter at the time because they refused to believe the truth looming over their heads. Still, she prayed that their fights would not escalate to the violent ones with her adoptive father. She bit down on her bottom lip, holding back the tears already welling up in her eyes. _Stop thinking about this! You're going to drive yourself crazy. Christian wouldn't do that. Would he?_ She shook the thought out of her mind, and put her focus on finding a convenient parking space.

A moment later, she was exiting her car and striding towards the JCPenney entrance. A day of shopping by herself would do her some good. It would take her mind off of everything for a while. Still, she couldn't help but wish that Courtney could join her. At least then she'd have someone to vent to about her troubles. A scoff escaped her lips, as she yanked open the glass door of the department store and stepped inside. _She's probably too busy with Matt to give a shit about my problems anymore._ There was no point in bothering with her friends once they got a boyfriend. It had happened before and it would happen again. Ultimately, she would end up becoming the third wheel and come second in her best friend's life. It infuriated her, but then again, what could she do about it?

Her eyes shifted from right to left, assessing her surroundings as she passed through the store towards the opening of the mall. She didn't take much interest in the merchandise. She was more interested in the trendy boutiques such as: Abercrombie & Fitch, Guess, and Forever 21. She stepped out into the main plaza. The song "Once Again" by Frankie Jordan echoed throughout the extensive shopping center over unseen speakers. Amy urged the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder, and began strolling down the line of stores.

About an hour later, she had already explored the first half of the lower level of the mall and picked up a few things on her way. On her venture, she had acquired a magazine and movie T-Shirt from Suncoast Motion Picture Company, some perfume and a pair of sunglasses from Claire's Boutique, and a pair of jeans and a couple trendy T-Shirts from Abercrombie & Fitch. She wasn't even bothering to check how much money she had left, but she was sure she had spent over a hundred bucks by now. Stepping out of Abercrombie, she turned her head and saw Victoria's Secret to her left. She hesitated before finally stepping inside. _Yeah right, like I'm ever going to get a chance to show my underwear to anyone._ She rolled her eyes as she began perusing the racks of under garments.

"Amy?"

Amy's brows furrowed inquisitively at the familiar voice. She averted her attention away from a rack of pink lace bras, and turned her head in the direction of the voice. In the next moment, she came face to face with a tall and curvaceous blonde. The same "Marilyn-Monroe-wannabe" she had met in Christian's office the day before. Although she remembered her face, she seemed to have forgotten her name. "Uh…?" She didn't know what to say. Her forehead wrinkled in thought, trying to recall her name.

The woman placed a hand on her heart, stepping towards her. Her blonde curls bouncing as she did so. "Kimber. Kimber Henry. We met yesterday, in Christian's office?"

"Oh! Right. Kimber." She sighed softly. "Sorry. I've never been good at remembering names." Probably a trait she had gotten from her father.

Kimber brought her opposite hand up to fluff her tresses. "That's all right. How are things going with you and Christian?"

"Good." One of her brows furrowed in bafflement. "Why?"

Kimber's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, turning her attention to a frilly black and hot pink thong. "Just curious is all." She brought her gaze back to Amy, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So what are you doing here? Looking for a little something to grab a certain guy's attention?"

Her eyes widened and her brows arched in surprise. If only that were true. She couldn't possibly get the kind or even the _number_ of men Kimber could get. She rolled her eyes, exuding an embarrassed chuckle. "Uh…no. I was just browsing for myself." She didn't want to know what _Kimber_ was doing here, but she had two guesses. "Like I said, I don't have that 'certain guy' yet."

Kimber looked as if she were about to say something but was holding back. "Have you even tried getting out there? They don't always come to you, honey; you have to go to them. You gotta go where the action is."

_What was she getting at?_ She had no idea, but she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. "I guess so. I'm just not a very outgoing person. I try to steer clear of big crowds. Unless of course if I'm going to a concert or something."

Kimber shook her head, averting her gaze to the floor. "If you want to meet a guy, you have to break out of your shell, sweetie." She brought her eyes back to Amy's, cocking her head to one side. "You're pretty enough. If you had just a little more confidence, you could have every guy wrapped around your finger. You've got it, now all you have to do is flaunt it." She shook her bosoms at Amy with a smirk.

Amy was taken back a little at Kimber's gesture. What was she? A lesbian? Maybe she was bi-sexual. Again, that was something she wasn't so sure she wanted to find out. She bit down on her bottom lip. "I really don't think I'm _that_ pretty, but thanks." She turned her attention back to the rack of bras she had been browsing through.

"Hey, what do you say we grab a bite to eat and chat some more?"

Slowly, she turned her head back to stare at Kimber. Was she serious? _She_ wanted to hang out with _her_? She didn't know Kimber that well, but from past experiences she'd had with friends in high school, she couldn't help but feel a tad bit suspicious. Did she want something from her? And if so, what? Could she be using her to get to Christian? At this point, she wouldn't put anything past her. Sometimes she found herself to be too trusting. Then again, it would be nice to have a shopping partner, and what fun would it be to continue on her own? In the last hour, she had already begun feeling lonesome without her best friend. Shopping was more fun when you were with your friends. You could comment and joke about different objects in the stores, and get an honest opinion when trying on clothes.

She couldn't believe she was saying it, but the words still managed to escape her lips. "Sure, we could do that," she gave her a small smile, and before she knew what was happening, Kimber was linking her arm with hers and leading her out of the store. _She's not going to become my best friend. No way in hell._ As much as she missed Courtney, she wouldn't pass up a friend right now, but one thing was for sure, she wouldn't replace Courtney. She didn't see any harm in hanging with Kimber for a while. After all, what's the worse that could happen?

Amy and Kimber rode the escalator to the upper level of the mall and headed to the food court. Amy got herself a piece of pineapple pizza at Mama B's Pizza Company. She wasn't surprised when Kimber refused to eat any, claiming that it would "ruin her figure," and instead, followed her to Che Pasta where she got herself a plate of pasta. _Oh yeah, like THAT'S going to be less fattening?_ Together, the two of them found themselves a table off to the side, sat down, and began consuming their meals.

Kimber stole a glance at her, scrutinizing her features. "Have you ever tried wearing make-up?"

She didn't know if she should take her question as an insult or a constructive comment. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, reaching for her soda. "I wear it sometimes. I just don't pack on the make-up like most people do. I wear eye shadow, mascara, and foundation. Maybe a little eyeliner and lip gloss. Usual stuff I guess."

"Why aren't you wearing any today?"

Amy gave her another shrug before biting into her pizza.

"Before I even think about stepping foot outside, I always put some on. It doesn't matter where I'm going. You have to look pretty if you want to stand out in a crowd. After all, you never know who you might meet." A smirk crept across her features, averting her eyes to her plate before her.

"It might work for you, but I suck at putting on make-up," Amy was tempted to say, but kept quiet. A woeful sigh escaped her. "As pathetic as it might sound, I've never been good with guys. Talking to guys, flirting with guys, I can't even make the first move." _Shut up! Stop talking! Don't reveal your pathetic past to this skank._ "I haven't exactly had the best past with them. In high school, the guys were all afraid to come near me, like I had some kind of disease or something. They wouldn't even think to give me a second look."

Kimber had taken her attention away from her meal to listen intently to her story. She managed to give her a sympathetic smile. Reaching over the table, she reached out and touched Amy's arm. "You just need that confidence, honey. It's not as hard as you make it out to be. All you have to do is apply a little make-up, splash on that confidence, and give those guys a smile. Before you know, they'll be on their knees groveling at your feet, and if all else fails, a little sex appeal can go a long way." She smiled smugly. "If you saw anything that interested you back at Victoria's Secret, I'd advise you to get it. You never know when you'll need it."

Amy cocked a questioning brow her way. _Now where was she going with this?_ She couldn't understand Kimber and where she was coming from half the time she had been talking to her. Of course it was easy for her to say these things to her. She had everything that she didn't. Her Marilyn Monroe image might be a little tacky, but she was blonde. About seventy percent of men wanted blondes, not brunettes. A light laugh escaped her. "Well, I'm naturally shy. I just can't help it. Forgive me if I'm not so talkative. Besides, it's not like I have that sex appeal like…" She trailed off, shaking her head before she said anymore. She almost sounded like she was hitting on the woman. Was she insane? Ew.

Kimber swallowed the pieces of pasta already in her mouth, took a sip of her cup of iced tea, and gave Amy a wry smile. Her eyes narrowed in thought. "You really should consider going blonde. After all, the saying still goes. Blondes do have more fun," she leaned towards her with her next words, "and honey, if you went blonde, you'd be twice as pretty as you are now."

She had to admit, Kimber had a point. Going blonde had always been something she'd thought about once or twice, even back in high school. She could recall times when she'd be unconsciously shooting daggers at the blondes that passed her in the halls, their arms or hands linked with that of their boyfriends. It disgusted her. She'd been so close to bleaching her hair, but decided not to once her crush had been snatched up by someone else. She had always envisioned herself as a blonde. Maybe someday soon she actually _would_ be. She couldn't imagine the look on Christian's face if she suddenly changed her look. It would be both interesting and frightening at the same time. A smirk crossed her face, looking over at Kimber. "You think?"

A soft smile appeared on Kimber's face. "Definitely." She brought one of her hands up to fluff her tresses, much in the same way she had earlier. "This color would look great on you. You might even consider getting a few inches trimmed off. Think about it. A make-over would ultimately give you the confidence you've always wanted."

"You're right. I haven't really had a make-over in…" She shook her head, "God, I can't even remember when I've had one." She laughed lightly before taking another bite of her pizza.

Kimber probed her fork into her pasta, shoveling a few more pieces into her mouth, reaching for her iced tea a moment later. She shook a few loose curls out of her face as she met Amy's gaze. "All you have to do is say the word, and I'll make you into the person you've always wanted but never thought you could be."

A part of her wasn't so sure she wanted to let this woman transform her into a new person. There was no telling what she'd do once she had her in her clutches. She sure as hell wouldn't allow her to turn her into a filthy whore. Then again, another part of her was a little excited about a new look. Maybe she'd finally get a boyfriend. She took a sip of her drink, stealing a glance over at her. "I'll think about it, and I'll let you know."

Kimber nodded her head with a smirk, and went back to her pasta. A moment later, she was finished, and soon, so was Amy. "All done?" Amy nodded her head with a small smile. Pushing up to her feet, Kimber took their trash and disposed of it in the nearest bin. She shuffled back towards their table, grabbed her purse, and slung the strap over her shoulder. "I have to use the ladies room."

She nodded and rose to her feet. "Yeah, me too." Slinging the strap of her own purse over her shoulder, she followed Kimber to the women's restroom. The two of them squeezed past a group of casually dressed brunettes on their way by, stepping inside the room a moment later. They each did what they needed to do. Amy stepped out of the stall less than five minutes later, washed her hands, and gazed back at her reflection in the mirror. A woeful sigh escaped her.

She had been through so much these last few days, and it had taken a lot out of her. Being both emotionally and physically exhausted, she could sure use a day to relax. She needed a worry-free day away from parents, friends, and school. She still couldn't believe that she actually had a father now. A father she should have had a long time ago. She wouldn't lie. Christian Troy was a very complicated man, and the people who knew him only perpetuated her inquisitive mind. There was something else that plagued her mind. How was Kimber involved with him?

Reaching for her cellular on her hip, she grasped it in her hands and checked her messages. Maybe Courtney had left her a friendly greeting just to check-in. Maybe a text message with a line from a movie or television show she'd have to figure out the answer to. A weary sigh escaped her when she realized there were no messages. No voicemail or text message.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Peeling her eyes off the cellular in her hand, she lifted her chin up and met Kimber's questioning gaze. She forced a small smile. "Uh, yeah. I've just…" She sighed deeply, "been going through a lot lately. It's taken a lot out of me." She scoffed and shook her head, placing her phone back on her hip. "I don't even know who my friends are anymore. Or even if they care to be my friends anymore."

Kimber sighed softly. "Is that why you're here by yourself today?" She placed her purse down beside the sink, leaned forward and turned the faucet on, beginning to wash her hands.

Amy leaned her back against the wall beside the sink, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "Unfortunately. My best friend is too busy with her new boyfriend to give a shit about me. If I was guaranteed not to end up the third wheel, I'd hang out with them, but then again…"

Kimber turned the faucet off and snatched a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, drying her hands off. She turned her head to look over at Amy with a wry smile. "Watching her hang all over her boyfriend would only make you feel like shit. I don't blame you honey. I'd probably do the same thing," she opened up her purse and took out her mascara, "but why should you let her rub your face in it? You should go out and have your own fun. It's a shame we're not in Vegas or we could have a real girl's night out. It would make you forget all about your…" She brought her hands up to express quotation marks, "friend."

A smile played at the corners of Amy's mouth. It was becoming easier to talk to Kimber. She seemed to understand exactly what she was going through, and that was both a relief and a surprise to Amy. It was also comforting to have someone listen to her problems. It felt good to finally get all of this out in the open. "I wish I could. As exhausted as I am right now, I guess I do need to get out more. I would _love_ to go to Vegas because I've never been. I've seen all these movies and TV shows where they go to Vegas and I've always wanted to go."

Kimber applied a touch more mascara to her lashes, but from the looks of it, she didn't need it. "I hear they've got the hottest clubs on the strip. They are twice as hot as the clubs around South Beach." She stole a quick glance at Amy, her brow furrowing questioningly. "How old did you say you were?"

"Nineteen." She shrugged with a sheepish smile, already anticipating Kimber's reaction. What kind of fun could she have in Sin City if she wasn't even a legal adult? She couldn't drink alcohol or get into the clubs. That wasn't exactly her scene, as it was her father's. Still, she'd still love to see what all the hoopla was about, and there were other things to do besides that, right?

Kimber brought her mascara down, and turned her head to stare at Amy in bafflement. "You're only nineteen? I would have guessed you'd be at least twenty if not twenty one."

Her brows arched in astoundment. _Should I take that as a compliment?_ A nervous laugh escaped her. "I wish, but no, I'm nineteen. I would have thought you'd think I was younger. You know…being Christian's daughter and all."

Kimber shrugged lightly. "I guess I never really thought about it, until now that is."

She sighed woefully, dropping her eyes to the black and white tiled floor beneath her two inch heeled, black leather boots. "I wish I were older. The way my mom treats me, I feel like I'm still twelve. I'm almost an adult, and she still treats me like I'm a baby. She's too overprotective of me, and she's already pressuring me to get a job. I love her, but sometimes, I feel like she's trying to make me into the person she never was. It's as if she's trying to get me out of the house, just to be alone with her boyfriend. I've been depressed a lot lately, and I just need to get away from everything and everyone, even if only for a couple days." She shook her head in disbelief, holding back on coming tears. "I feel like I can't even live my life anymore."

Kimber scowled at Amy, almost as if she could relate to what she was going through. "I'm sorry. That really has to suck." She sighed softly and dropped her gaze to her purse, "believe me honey; I know what it feels like to be discarded like a piece of shit. It's happened to me more times than you'd think." Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder, she fixed her attention back on her reflection in the mirror. She twisted the mascara brush out of the plastic cylinder she held in her hands, and brought the brush up to her right nostril, inhaling sharply.

Amy's brows arched in surprise before furrowing in bewilderment. What the hell had Kimber just done? More importantly, _why_ had she done it? Was she to believe that Kimber was a druggie? Suddenly, she didn't feel so keen on hanging out with her. "Uh…what are you doing?"

Kimber didn't bother to give her even one look, as she placed her mascara back in her purse, and continued digging for God knew what. "It's just a little something that helps perk me up in times like this, kind of like an instant Prozac." A minute later, she slipped a tiny white envelope out of her purse.

"What's that?" She didn't have to ask. She was almost sure she knew what it was. Kimber took another look around the vacant restroom before opening the envelope, just enough to give Amy a peek. She blinked back her astonishment. Lodged inside was a white powdery substance. Had she not seen Kimber's brief inhalation a moment ago, she would think it was flour, but now she knew it was cocaine. She was speechless enough as it was, so Kimber went on.

"It's not as bad as it looks, sweetie. Whenever I become emotionally exhausted, this helps me get through my day. So everyone says it can kill you, but the chest pains, the nausea, the constant insomnia…that's nothing. If you're dealing with as much shit as I go through on a daily basis, this is what you need. One hit of this and whatever issues I have instantly disappear." Her shoulders rose and fell in a light shrug, gently thrusting the envelope in her direction. She cocked her head to one side, studying Amy's melancholy and anxious expression, "think about it. It would take all that pain away."

Amy looked from her to the envelope in her hand, and then back to her. Her brows stitched together in bafflement. Was she seriously offering her coke? Had she completely lost her mind? Well, if she was desperate enough to snort cocaine, she must have. As much as Amy wanted to turn around and walk out of that restroom, never looking back, her nagging curiosity was getting the best of her. _Don't do it!_ A voice cried out from the back of her mind. _It'll kill you. Don't. Do. It!_ Exhaling sharply, she shook her head. "No thanks. I think I'll pass."

Kimber's eyes narrowed in an incriminating manner. "You're not even the least bit curious? I'm telling you honey, you would feel so much better. All I'm trying to do is help you. Give it a try. It's not like taking _one_ hit is going to kill you." She leaned towards her, lowering her voice to a murmur. "Wouldn't you _love_ to take back all the power and all the energy you've lost? Just think about how good it would feel."

She chewed on her bottom lip apprehensively. Her heart pounded in her chest. The strong hold her conscience had on her was beginning to slip away. Suddenly, what was right and what was wrong didn't matter to her. All that mattered was her happiness. She wanted her happiness back, ever since that call from her adoptive father, and that encounter with Gina last night. Her heart constricted in her chest, a million thoughts racing through her mind. Should she do it? Could she do it? Would it honestly change anything for the better?

"Do you honestly want to feel like shit the rest of your life?" Kimber asked, speaking to her now in a normal tone of voice. Amy shook her head. "Then what are you so afraid of?" When she got nothing but a glare from Amy, she reached her hand back into her purse and pulled out a short, plastic straw. Kimber set the open white envelope down beside the sink. Turning back to the peevish girl before her, she thrust the object in her direction.

Before Amy even realized what she was doing, she grabbed the straw from Kimber, held it up to her right nostril, leaned over the sink, and deeply inhaled the powdery substance. By the time she lifted her head up; she began coughing from the pungent fumes floating around her head. A sudden wave of dizziness passed over her, causing her to reach out for the counter to steady herself. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart began to pound in her chest. She blinked back her astoundment. "Whoa!" Were these side effects from the drug? She shuddered to think. Lifting her gaze from the floor, she was baffled to see the somewhat goofy-smile on Kimber's face.

"How was it?"

She hadn't even realized Kimber was speaking to her until the fumes passed. Leaning herself back against the wall, she sighed wearily and looked over at the expectantly blonde. "It was…weird."

Kimber shrugged her words off and stepped towards the sink, quickly stuffing the white envelope and straw back into her purse before anyone could see it. "It felt like that for me, the first time I tried it. The coughing will pass once you start to get use to it." She slung the strap of her purse over her left shoulder, a wry smile crossing her face. "You have to admit, it felt good, didn't it? If only for a second?"

She cleared her throat. In a way, she didn't want to agree with her, but another part of her was telling her otherwise. Another part of her wanted more. A light laugh escaped her. "A little, but just for a second."

Kimber smirked. "I told you, and don't you feel better now that you did?"

Amy couldn't stop herself from nodding, nor hold back the smile creeping over her lips. It was as if there was some entity in her body controlling her, forcing her to obey it. "Yeah, it was…nice. Suddenly, I don't even know why I was so upset in the first place."

"There's plenty more where that came from. If you ever want another hit, just give me a call." Kimber strutted past Amy and exited the ladies room. Amy followed her out.

"Hey!" Amy dashed after her, despite the dizziness she was still feeling. Kimber stopped in her tracks, and turned back around, staring at her expectantly. "You didn't even give me your number."

"Oh. Well it would be hard to get in touch with me then, wouldn't it?" Kimber laughed lightly, and reached back into her purse. She pulled out a notepad and pen, quickly taking down her number, ripping off the page and handing it over to Amy. "There you go. Look, I know I said I'd be your shopping partner, but I just remembered there's somewhere I need to be. Can we take a rain check on this?"

She nodded her head gently, shoving the piece of paper in her pocket. "Yeah, I guess so. I'll see you later."

Kimber nodded and flashed Amy a smile. "Well, it was _really_ nice talking to you again Amy. Tell Christian I said 'Hi,' would you?" Amy nodded her head in regard, watching the woman turn on her heels and head off in the opposite direction, exchanging a brief wave.

Amy stood there, dumbfounded by what had just happened. Had she actually made friends with Kimber "Marilyn-Monroe-Wannabe" Henry? More importantly, what had happened to her since that coke inhalation? She wasn't lying when she said it felt weird. It did, but something inside of her was yearning for more. It was a bit scary. Was she losing her mind? What was happening to her? She tried as she might to shake these feelings and thoughts out of her head, but they would not go away. They were as audible as the chatter scattered across the food court. She strode back towards the escalators, deciding that she had had enough shopping for one day. She had just stepped onto the escalator when her cellular started to ring. Switching her shopping bags from one arm to the other, she reached for her phone and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Hello sweetheart, it's Christian."

"Oh. Hi d-Christian." For a moment, she almost called him "dad." It was yet another factor that she was not thinking straight. _Just what does this shit do to you, besides making you feel queasy?_

"Listen, I just wanted to give you a call to confirm, did you still want to go to Disneyworld?"

Disneyworld? Had she told him she wanted to go to Disneyworld? She couldn't recall at the moment. Of course, she wasn't entirely herself anyway. It took her a moment to find her voice. "Uh…Disneyworld?"

"That's what you told me last night at dinner. Are you all right? You sound a little…" His voice trailed off, but she knew what he was probably thinking.

She stepped off of the escalator and walked stiffly towards the JCPenny entrance. A weary sigh escaped her. "I'm fine." Suddenly, a memory flashed in her mind. "Oh! Right. Disneyworld."

"You still want to go, don't you?"

Did she still want to go? To Disneyworld? She bit down on her bottom lip, Kimber's words echoing in her head, _"You gotta go where the action is."_ A smile curled her lips. "You know what, I really appreciate you offering to take me and everything, but I'd rather go to Vegas. I've never been there either and I've always wanted to go." There was a pause on Christian's end, before she continued, "I mean, I know it's all the way across the country, but I really don't want to ruin your image by making you go to Disneyworld with me." She shrugged lightly, even though she knew he couldn't see it.

"Las Vegas sounds terrific, sweetheart. I didn't have a problem taking you to Disneyworld, as long as it made _you_ happy, but if you would rather go to Vegas, I'll book us a flight in the next couple days and we'll go. Frankly, I've always dreamed of visiting Sin City myself."

She didn't have to be in his presence to imagine the grin already on Christian's face; she could hear it in his voice. "Seriously? You'd take me?"

"Sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you? Yes! I will take you. I'll be honest, I can talk a great deal of bullshit, but I get what I want. When you're my daughter, there will be no such bullshit between us. I can promise you that. If I say I will do something, I make you a guarantee that I will do it. I don't make any long-term commitments, but _you_ shouldn't be afraid to ask me for anything. Chances are, I'll always say 'yes'…depending on the situation."

This time, a grin spread across her own face. "Thank you. That really means a lot to me. You know, to hear you say that." She sniffled, feeling as if she had some specks of coke left in her nostrils. Where was a Kleenex when she needed it?

"I didn't think it would make you cry."

She blinked at his remark. "Oh! I'm not crying. I just…its cold in here. I think I might be getting a cold, but it doesn't mean that I won't be able to go. It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"I hope not. I'd hate to see you get sick sweetheart. Listen, I'll give you a call within the next couple days when I've booked a flight. How's that sound?"

Amy picked up her pace as she made her way through the JCPenny store. "That sounds great." The two exchanged their good-byes and she hung up, placing her cellular back on her hip.

A smirk appeared on her face as she stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. A breeze swept over her figure, causing a few strands of her auburn colored locks to sweep across her face. This would be a fun trip and she knew it. Of course Disneyworld would have been more exciting since she'd dreamt of going since she was little, but it was time for her to grow-up. It was time for her to become a woman. She might have dismissed Kimber Henry when she'd first met her, but first impressions are not always correct. Sometimes you had to take the time to really get to know someone before judging them. Kimber might have tempted her into snorting coke, but Amy did not care. In fact, she didn't care about anything right now. She hadn't felt so independent in her life. For the first time, she was going to get her life back on track, and no one was going to stand in her way.


	22. Just Another Troy

"Run that by me again."

"I'm taking my daughter to Las Vegas, Sean. Sin City. Do I have to spell it out for you?" Christian said, shuffling towards his bed holding a pair of black slacks in one hand and his cordless phone in the other. He placed the pants into the open duffel bag that lay on top of his mattress, having already taken the initiative to shower after last night's sex act.

When he'd booked the flight to Las Vegas, he'd got so caught up in other things that giving Sean the head's up had slipped his mind. He was kicking himself for not mentioning it before. Ever since he realized he had a daughter, she seemed to be one of the most important things on his mind. Aside from getting laid that is. He could get laid any night of the week, and once they were in Vegas, he could probably get laid twice as much as in South Beach. A twinge of excitement rose within him.

"I suppose you want me to handle the business in your absence. Christian, this is one of our busiest months to date. We've been raking in more revenue than usual. Couldn't you think of taking a vacation some other time?"

"I'm doing this for my daughter, Sean. She wanted to go and I told her we would. I'm not going to deny her that now." Christian placed a black dress shirt on top of the pile he'd made in the bag, and preceded to zip it up. "Look, as long as people are still striving for perfection, they should be just fine in your hands. Besides, you're the talent anyway. I'm sure our potential clients won't miss the line of bullshit I feed them on occasion."

A deep sigh escaped Sean. "All right fine, I'll handle the clients. How long are you planning on being gone anyway?"

"One or two days. It all depends on how long she wants to stay. Frankly, I'd be fine staying a whole week. That way, it would give me the perfect opportunity to enjoy the finer sides of Vegas. I've been doing a bit of reading on the best x-rated shows in Sin City, and the girl-on-girl vampire act seems particularly intriguing." A grin spread across Christian's face as he slung the strap of his duffel over his shoulder and headed into his living room.

"I know it's probably none of my business, Christian, but from a father's perspective, I don't think an x-rated show such as that would be an experience you should share with your daughter."

He scoffed. "Please. That would hardly be an ideal father/daughter outing, but even if I intended on bringing her along, I'm sure she'd be mature enough to handle it. After all, she is a Troy. We mature…faster than most."

"All I'm saying is that I think you should take your daughter into consideration, before you make out any kind of personal itinerary."

"I'll take that into consideration, partner." There was a knock at his door just then, causing Christian to avert his attention away from the conversation with Sean. "I have to go Sean. She just got here. I'll see you in the next couple days." Before Sean could say anymore, he ended the call, pivoted on his heels and shuffled towards his door.

He stole a glance at his watch, a weary sigh escaping his lips. It was seven ten in the morning. They had to get to the airport and check in an hour and a half before their nine o' clock flight. If there was one thing his daughter was not, it was prompt. He had told her to be at his place by seven o' clock to give them enough time to get to the airport, which took at most, fifteen to twenty minutes in itself. So she was only ten minutes late, but to him, ten minutes could cost them. He reached the door and opened it, gazing down at her with a blank expression on his face.

Amy stood there clutching a large pink suitcase in her right hand, her purse slung over her opposite shoulder. From the way she was dressed, she looked fully prepared to go to Vegas. She wore a pair of dark denim, hip-hugger jeans with a rhinestone belt, and a white glittery T-Shirt with the Las Vegas welcome sign imprinted on it. From the awkward look on her face, he could sense that she knew she was late. "Hey," she said, forcing a small smile. "I'm sorry I'm late. I know you said seven but I stayed up late last night, until four o' clock in the morning. I was…talking to a friend. I'm sorry." She averted her eyes to the floor, as if she didn't know what else to say.

A soft sigh escaped him. "Just don't make it a habit." He opened the door wider for her to step inside. "Come on in. I just have to grab a couple things before we leave."

She grabbed the handle on her suitcase and rolled it along behind her as she walked inside. Her eyes roamed from right to left, assessing her surroundings. "Wow. This is a…really big apartment."

Christian strolled past her, a wry smile crossing his face. A chuckle escaped him. "This shouldn't come as much of a surprise to you, sweetheart, considering how much money I make a year." He turned right and headed into his spacious white kitchen. Pulling a white pad of paper and a pen out of one of the drawers near the stove, he wrote up a quick little note for his maid.

"I guess not. Do you have time to give me a quick little tour?"

He ripped the note off of the pad and placed it on the counter, slipping the items back into the drawer. Turning on his heels, he found Amy leaning against the wall on the left side of the kitchen looking at him expectantly. He was almost tempted to turn down her request, but she was still his daughter, and the time would come eventually. He shuffled towards her, forcing a smile. "I suppose, but like you said, it's going to be quick." He turned and gestured swiftly to their surroundings. "You've already seen the kitchen."

She nodded her head. He took a couple steps forward and motioned to the room they were both standing in. The room contained a broad white sofa, a glass coffee table, and two red leather chairs. A large flat screen TV sat against the left wall and a huge window across the room. "The living room." He turned on his heels and strode towards the opposite side of his apartment where his spacious bedroom was located. A king-sized bed sat on the left side of the room. The bed was so humongous that it was clearly made for a King. The red sheets and white comforter were in disarray, almost as if someone had been rolling around in them not too long ago. Another huge window sat along the back wall, as well as another flat screen TV across from the bed. There was a small table sitting on the right side of the bed, a black cordless phone on top. Instead of the bed being placed against a wall, it overlooked his bathroom. The only thing separating the two rooms was a large window. Stopping in his tracks when he reached the room, a smug smile crossed his face. "The bedroom." He motioned to the room beyond, "and the bathroom."

Amy exchanged a look with him. The expression on her face registered that she was a bit apprehensive about something, but what? He didn't know. He bit down on his bottom lip, arching his brows expectantly, "what?"

She shook her head, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "Nothing." She cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders. "You have your own color schemes from what I see, with the red, white and black. My room is mostly black, turquoise and brown, but there's also a little bit of pink too."

"I'm not surprised." Christian remarked. "You _are_ a Troy, but you're an entirely different gender." He stole a quick glance at his watch and looked down at her. "We really should get going. We can't afford to waste anymore time." Turning on his heels, he headed back into his living area.

He grabbed his duffel and headed towards the door, stealing a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was following. "Shall we?" He said, as he opened the door and allowed her to walk out before him.

She nodded her head and stepped out into the hallway, rolling her suitcase along behind her. Together, the two of them rode the elevator down to the parking lot. After Christian loaded their luggage into his trunk, they slipped into his black Porsche, pulled onto the road and drove towards the Miami airport. Not much was said between them on their way there. The excitement stirring inside of Christian grew. Las Vegas. It was an amazing city. It was a city of uncharted territories for him. With so many possibilities and so little time, he wished he could stay forever. Well, maybe not forever but at least a few weeks. He could screw a fair share of beautiful women in that time. He suddenly found himself wondering why he hadn't of planned a trip to Vegas sooner. Amy had yet to turn twenty-one before she could fully enjoy Vegas. She wouldn't get to experience or fully enjoy the benefits of the city, but Christian knew that this was a trip she needed for her own sake. After all she had told him about her parents and the things that were stressing her out, she need the time to relax and he was going to give it to her.

They arrived at the airport with five minutes to spare, just enough time to jump out of the car, get their luggage down and hurry into the terminal. Christian exuded a frustrated sigh, quickening his pace as he and Amy moved swiftly with their bags towards the check-in desk. He stole a glance over at her once she fell in step with him. "Next time, I'll personally arrange to give you a wake-up call myself. Whatever it takes to get us here on time."

She gently nodded her head. "I'm really sorry again. I'm just not the best at getting up early. I'm use to waking up at three in the afternoon."

Christian almost tripped over his own feet at her last words, his brows arching in astonishment. "_Three?_ Jesus!" He shook his head in disbelief. "What in God's name are you doing all night, sweetheart?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Sometimes I can't sleep. I have a really bad insomnia problem. Other times, I'm either talking on the phone to my friend or doing some other stuff on my computer."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his naturally inquisitive mind getting the best of him as usual. "I don't mean to pry, sweetheart, but who exactly were you talking to all night that would cause you to be so late today? Apparently this 'friend' of yours must be more important than your own father." When he didn't get an immediate response from her, he held her gaze until she replied.

"Ki-Courtney. I was talking to my friend, Courtney, and no, she's not more important to me than you. This trip to Vegas is better than any trip with my best friend."

He sighed deeply, averting his gaze to something else. It was possible he could merely be paranoid, but something told him that she was not being completely honest with him. The hesitation to the question had him thinking there was something else going on, and whatever it was, he didn't like it. However, he'd let it go…at least for now. He didn't speak another word until he reached the front desk. He reached under his jacket and pulled out his ID, sliding it towards the woman behind the counter. Amy did the same. Once they were handed their boarding passes and their luggage was checked, they were directed to their gate. Their flight was yet to be boarding so they both sat near the gate and awaited their boarding call.

Christian crossed his right leg over his left and crossed his arms comfortably over his chest. A few minutes passed and neither one of them said anything to the other. He tried to formulate something to say, but nothing came to him. They might have had a lot to say to each other during their dinner date, but he was out of words at the moment. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He turned his head to look at her, "have you gotten anymore calls?"

He seemed to have nearly startled her with that question, either that or his voice. Slowly, she turned to look in his direction. Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "From who?"

He blinked back his vexation and sighed irritably. "Your foster father."

A weary sigh escaped her. "No, thank God. All I want to do is forget about him. In fact, I don't even want to hear his name. This trip is going to be good for me. The only thing I want out of it is to finally have some time to spend with you…my _real_ father, and pretend like my foster father never existed."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. At last, she was starting to think like him. After that little blow-up at Gina in the restaurant a day ago, he could tell. She was turning into him more and more each day. She was not only beginning to talk like a Troy, but she was beginning to think like one too. "Ask and you shall receive. I intend to give you all of that and plenty more. By the time we get back, that asshole will be nothing but a distant memory."

She smiled tenderly. "Well I'm glad because hearing that means a lot to me."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, urging her close to his chest and planting a paternal kiss to the top of her head. Less than an hour later, their flight was beginning to board its passengers. "That's us, let's go." Both Christian and Amy rose to their feet, boarding passes in hand. The pair shuffled towards their designated gate, handing over their boarding passes to the tall and curvaceous blonde at the door. A smug smile stretched across Christian's face, giving her a quick once over as he passed her by. He had to keep reminding himself that even though he was leaving his home, there would be plenty more provocative beauties in Sin City.

Only minutes later did Christian and Amy board their flight. Amy followed closely behind him as they passed down the length of the plane, squeezing their way through the passengers already on board, and down the tight aisles to the back of the vehicle. "Shouldn't we have gotten to our seats by now?"

Christian stole a glance at his bewildered daughter. "We're flying First Class, sweetheart. I wouldn't settle for anything less." He smiled wryly. They passed through a few more aisles only to end up in a more extensive area of the plane. A much more refined area with large, comfy white leather seats. It was more intimate, fitting only about twelve passengers.

Amy took a long look around, a smirk crossing her face. "Wow, this is cool."

After all they had discussed about their lives before they met, Christian still couldn't believe the things she had missed out on seeing and doing. He stopped and pivoted on his heels to face her. "There's plenty more where that came from. Please, feel free to take full advantage of it." Amy exchanged a smile with him before they both took their seats in the third row down the aisle. Christian allowed her to sit near the window, knowing she'd want to see the bright lights as they flew over Las Vegas.

She turned to look over at him, biting down on her bottom lip apprehensively. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but are you sure this is okay? I know you're one of the most successful plastic surgeons in Miami. I don't want your partner and everyone else to get pissed at you for being gone."

He was a bit surprised that she was even questioning him about this. "Sean can handle the business without me. Trust me, I've looked into it. You don't have to worry about a thing. Besides, you're the reason why I agreed to this trip in the first place." He sighed softly and sat back in his seat. "While we're on the topic, how might I ask did you get past your mother without telling her the truth?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I did what I always do. I lied and told her that I was staying at my friend's house for a couple days. I also told her how much I was stressed and how I needed to get away for a little bit. Surprisingly, she believed me and told me to check in with her when I get the chance. She _has_ been a little suspicious though. With all the new clothes I've been getting, she thinks I've been shoplifting."

Christian's heart sped up in his chest. A huge lump formed in his throat. Things were getting more and more nerve wrecking the longer she kept him from her adoptive mother. He couldn't imagine what would happen if she ever found out, but he did not want to contemplate it. He scoffed and shook his head. "What did you say to that?"

"I denied it and told her I had found a job helping out my drama teacher, designing sets for a production at the college. I told her it didn't pay much but you get like five bucks an hour. Then she asked where I had enough money to buy all that in such a short amount of time."

"And?"

"And I told her I'd been talking to my friend about my money dilemma, and that she was willing to work alongside me. Every time she gets paid for her share of the work, she'd give that money to me. I also dropped a hint that the only reason my friend is willing to do it is to chat with a cute guy in our class. After I told her all that, she dropped it and moved on. She didn't bother bringing it up again all night."

A smile spread across Christian's face as he listened attentively to her. "I'm impressed. You've just about mastered the fine art of bullshit that we, The Troys, are famous for. Nicely done."

She laughed. "Thanks."

Over the next fifteen minutes, people piled onto the plane and found their seats. They knew they had boarded because both Amy and Christian could hear the low uproar of voices from beyond, but could not see the passengers entering because of the curtain that separated First Class from Coach. The time came sooner than they thought to fasten their seat belts for take off. Christian did as he was instructed to, but from what he noticed; Amy was more hesitant about it. His brows furrowed inquisitively as he watched her cautious movements. "You all right?"

She sat back in her seat once her belt was fastened and stared off into space, a fretful scowl on her face. She shook her head stiffly. "No," she spoke softly. "I've only been on a plane once, when we made the move from California to Florida. We were lucky enough as it was to make it, but I've always been terrified of flying. All the movies, news, and shows I've seen with all the plane crashes…you can see why. That's why I prefer being on the ground, in the car, or maybe even on a train."

He scowled, his heart constricting in his chest when he saw the terror on her face. "Do you know how long it would take us to get to Vegas by car? Listen, I don't believe half of the shit they feed the media in those movies or soap operas and neither should you. To be quite honest, you have a greater chance of dying in a car accident than you do in a plane. You're going to be fine." He reached out and took her hand in his with a reassuring squeeze, forcing a small and reassuring smile. "If I didn't trust this airline with my life, I wouldn't have booked the flight. Trust me; we'll make it there in one piece."

She nodded her head gently; tightening the hold she had on his hand as the plane roared to life. The vehicle proceeded to roll down the runway, picking up speed as it prepared to take flight. Christian didn't mind her grip on his hand. If it aided her in being strong, he'd do anything for her. Leaning in, he placed a kiss to the top of her head. "You might want to try taking a deep breath, it'll help you relax."

After doing just that, her hold began to loosen and the moment they were in the air, she gradually let go of his hand. Once they had taken off, one of two flight attendants in their area brought both of them drinks at their request. The tall, trim, and longhaired brunette also offered them a snack or a meal. Christian turned down her offer but Amy was brought a muffin. About halfway through her large muffin, Amy scrounged through her purse and pulled out a medium sized book with a picture of The Eiffel Tower on it.

He looked from the book in her hands to her face, his brows arching expectantly. "What's that?"

Her cheeks flushed, almost as if she were mortified to tell him. "My journal. I um…write poems and stuff in it." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "It's just something I do when I'm bored."

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "May I hear one?"

Just when he thought her cheeks couldn't possibly get any redder, they did. She chewed on her bottom lip, slowly lifting her gaze from the open journal to him. She seemed to stammer with her next words. "I don't know. They're not that good. Some of them suck."

"You let me be the judge of that." He gazed at her expectantly. When he got nothing more than an anxious look, he leaned towards her, lowering his tone of voice with his next words. "I promise not to laugh. Go on, let me hear one."

After a lengthy pause, she exhaled sharply and shifted in her seat. "Ok…there _is_ something I wrote recently that was pretty decent." Christian settled into his seat and got comfortable, watching as she nervously flipped through the golden sheets of paper in her journal. The pages were filled with numerous passages both long and short. A deep sigh escaped her as she stopped on a page with a medium-sized passage scrawled on it. She stole a timid glance his way before she took a breath and recited the poem:

_I was once a frightened child  
The abuse in my family was far from mild  
So many times  
I cried  
So many times  
He lied  
I wanted a father who truly loved me  
Someone who's heart I could actually see  
What I found was a smug but protective stranger  
A man whose love for me dispelled his anger  
I feel protected in his arms  
Even I can't resist his charms  
My life is better because of him  
It's hard to believe things were once so grim  
I began believing he was an "asshole"  
But now I truly see Christian Troy's soul  
This is the father I should have had  
Maybe someday he'll let me call him "Dad"  
I will put my fears aside  
I no longer have a reason to hide  
The painful memories will remain in the past  
I want this love to last and last_

The tears were already rolling down Christian's cheeks, even half way through the passage. It succeeded in touching his heart more than he ever thought was humanly possible. He couldn't believe that those words had come from his own daughter. He couldn't believe she loved him that much. Nor that he'd had such an impact on her life in the short time they'd met. His heart constricted in his chest when she brought up the word "asshole," but it instantly skipped a beat when she spoke the word "Dad." From what he noticed, she had began getting teary eyed herself. He could hear her voice breaking every now and then. As much as it had all touched his heart, he wasn't so sure if he was ready to hear the word "dad" just yet, possibly in the near future but certainly not now. Yet, even as he thought this, he couldn't deny what was finally sinking in. He was a father. This was the real deal.

Finally finding the strength, he took in a deep breath to compose himself. Not being able to find the right words, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her close to his chest, resting his chin on top of her head and shutting his eyes.

"Did you…" She started softly, pausing to compose herself. "Did you like it?"

He sighed softly, opening his eyes and staring off into space. "Sweetheart…I loved it. Really, I don't quite know what else to say." He could feel his emotions rising to the surface once again, but he held back any more tears that threatened to escape him.

"I'm glad. You know, that you liked it. I put a lot of work into it. I'm not the best at rhyming, but I found the right words to use and…I meant every single word, except you're not an asshole anymore, at least not to me. I don't care what anyone else says. Especially not that bitch, Gina."

He chuckled, but could not manage to feel so cold-hearted at the moment. Her words had touched his heart, and he was in a sentimental mood. A feeling he hadn't quite experienced since holding Wilbur in his arms. "I don't feel I have anything to hide, at least not from you sweetheart."

Both Amy and Christian sat there beside each other, as the plane descended higher into the clouds. Neither one of them said a word to the other. They wanted to take in this tender exchange for as long as they possibly could. It was almost as if they felt it would never come again. No words needed to be spoken. All they needed was the warmth of each other. Christian feared saying anything, simply because he did not want to ruin this moment.

Finally breaking the silence, Amy spoke up; her voice remaining at the same hushed tone as before. She lifted her chin and looked up at him. "I think I'm going to take a nap. You know, make up for lost sleep?"

He nodded in understanding. "Go right ahead. We won't be getting to Las Vegas for a few hours at least. Feel free to sleep as long as you wish. I'll wake you up when we land."

She nodded, reclined back in her seat and shut her eyes. Christian looked over at her, a soft smile crossing his face. She appeared so immaculate when she was at rest. A light laugh escaped him, considering how outspoken and feisty she seemed to be when she was awake. Most definitely a Troy, he thought. Glancing over his shoulder, he signaled the nearest flight attendant and ordered himself a drink, but not enough to actually get himself buzzed.

By the time he'd finished his beer, Christian realized that Amy was sound asleep. At the same time he realized this, the sound of Amy's cellular caught his attention. The melody was muffled, but he knew it was hers. He recognized the ring tone. He debated with himself about whether or not he should answer it. A brief moment passed before he decided to answer it. If it turned out to be her adoptive father calling to harass her again, he'd take whatever chance he could to put him in his place. Following the sound, he reached into Amy's purse-taking no notice of the other things inside-and fished it out. A weary sigh escaped him as he flipped it open, just before the tune could end.

He hesitated, wondering how in the world he should answer. After all, it wasn't _his_ phone. The person on the other end would be expecting Amy's voice, not his. He took the natural way out. "Hello?"

An unfamiliar female voice came over the phone. "Uh, hello?"

Christian's brows furrowed. "I'm sorry, Amy's not available at the moment. May I ask who's calling?"

"Courtney, and who might you be?"

"Christian Troy. I'm…Amy's father."

There was a moment of silence from Courtney's end of the phone. Finally, she spoke. "Oh, so _you're_ Christian. I've heard _alot_ about you."

His brows arched in surprise, a smile curling his lips. "Have you? Well, I must say, I'm impressed. I myself have heard quite a few things about _you_, sweetheart. You're Amy's best friend, aren't you?"

"That's right, I am, and just how much _have_ you heard about me? What has she been telling you?"

"Your name has been brought up every now and then, although I never quite realized how incredibly beautiful you'd sound over the phone." His smile grew into a grin, imagining the body that went with that voice.

Courtney giggled. "How can you say that? You can't even_ see_ me. From what I heard, you're a plastic surgeon. I'm not saying you're wrong, but you might not want to make such assumptions until you've actually laid eyes on me."

His lips twisted into a smug smile. "If you played your cards right, that's not the only thing I'd lay on you. I may be a plastic surgeon sweetheart, but I've got a keen and _quivering_ intuition. The sound of your voice tells me that any flaws on your figure would be slim."

"Well, Dr. Troy, I believe I'm blushing. Are you sure you want to be flirting with me with Amy nearby?"

"Please, call me Christian. At the moment, Amy is sound asleep. I don't know how heavy she sleeps, but a few harmless flirting over the phone shouldn't be a problem."

"You know, _Christian_, you're not at all like I thought you were going to be. I'm not saying she still feels this way and no offense intended, but from what she told me, she made you sound like an-"

"Asshole?"

She exhaled sharply. "Yeah." A light laugh escaped her. "Now that I've actually gotten the chance to speak to you, you seem like a charmer, who I'm sure has no problem attracting women."

His brows arched expectantly. "Well, you're half right sweetheart. Don't believe everything you hear. While I _can_ be an asshole to a select few, there are other times when I can be quite a pleasure…given you find the time to stop by my office. I'd be more than willing to give you a personal and _private_ consultation."

"Ooh, is that right? Well, I might just have to take that into consideration…when I have a free minute."

"I'm assuming someone as beautiful as yourself must already be attached. Do you have a boyfriend?"

Courtney hesitated before uttering the word. "No." She sighed softly. "No, no boyfriend. I'm single and ready to mingle, as they say." She laughed lightly.

"Well in that case, feel free to stop by the McNamara/Troy offices later on this week. Amy and I are on our way to Las Vegas at the moment. We won't be back for a couple days. You don't mind covering for Amy in her absence, do you?"

"She's headed to Vegas? She never told me anything about that." A weary sigh escaped her. "I don't mind covering for her. If I hadn't spoken to you, I probably would have been freaking out by now, but if she's with _you_…I trust you'll take care of her. As awkward as it might sound, I would trade places with her right now if I could."

"It doesn't sound awkward at all. You wouldn't hear any complaints from my side, but I promised her we'd take this trip. It's sort of a father/daughter bonding experience. I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah, of course. Listen, I have to go, but I'll definitely have to stop by your office sometime. I'd love to meet you properly, not over the phone. Then…who knows?" She giggled. "It was a pleasure speaking to you, _Christian_."

"The pleasure was all mine, _Courtney_." He closed up the cellular, a smug smile planted on his face.

After speaking with Amy's best friend, he could hardly wait to get back to South Beach to meet her. She was right. Meeting on the phone would do nothing for either of them, even if it had gotten him hard for a split second. He needed to lay eyes on her. Better yet, he needed to lay more on her than his eyes. As much as this trip should be for his daughter, he couldn't help but think about this new girl, Courtney. When the plane landed or Amy woke up, his attention would be fixated on her, and when the plane landed back in South Beach, his mind would be fixated on meeting Courtney. The right way. The "Christian Troy" way.


	23. Damsel In Distress

"I can't believe I actually agreed to this."

Amy leaned back in her chair with a weary sigh. She was seated at a table, a few feet away from a large stage where a tantalizing and steamy show was about to take place. The theatre consisted mostly of women from her age on up into their late fourties. If there were one man in the room, he was lost entirely in the throng. While the other females waited in anticipation for the show to begin, all she wanted to do was get out of there. She brought her celluar phone away from her right ear, switching it to her left.

"Agreed to what honey? Why do you sound so upset? You're in Las Vegas. You _should_ be out having fun in the first place."

"Okay, no offense Kimber, but now you're starting to sound like my mom. I can't believe I actually agreed to let Christian leave me here at this Chippendales show. This isn't my thing. I don't get off watching guys dance around and strip. I'm not a lesbian, but all this is going to do is make me feel awkward and uncomfortable. I'm not twenty one yet. I want to be spending time with _him_, not here."

There was a soft sigh from Kimber's end. "I'm sorry sweetie. I know how you must feel right now, at least when it comes to Christian. He has a habit of doing the same thing to me, leaving me to wonder what's really more important to him."

"I don't think I want to _know_ what he's doing right now. That's just...eww. He told me there was a show he wanted to see, but didn't think it would be _appropriate_ for me so he brought me here. Why did he even bring me here if he's not going to spend time with me? I'm his daughter."

"I hate to break it to you honey, but having Christian bring you to Sin City might not have been the best idea. I mean, come on, they don't call it 'Sin City' for nothing. If you would have waited just a couple more days, I would have taken you there myself. Now that Christian is there, he'll take every opportunity to fulfill his _own _desires."

Her heart constricted in her chest at Kimber's words, refusing to believe them, but in the back of her mind, knowing that she was right. Suddenly, she couldn't have thought of a more stupid idea than this. More importantly, she was the idiot. An idiot who was sitting here waiting for something that she could careless about. She bit down on her bottom lip, holding back the emotion rising to the surface. Then, before she could prevent herself from saying it, the word left her mouth. "Asshole."

"Don't be so hard on him. He may act like an asshole half the time, but trust me, there's a better man beneath that vain exterior. I know how sneaky, not to mention _charming_ he is when it comes to getting what he wants, but no one is forcing you to stay there. Just call him up and be upfront with him about it. Tell him you'd rather be with him. It couldn't hurt."

A woeful sigh escaped her. "If he's off watching some x-rated show, I really don't think he's going to get up and leave just for me. Especially after he's bought the ticket."

"If he wants to keep you in his life he will. If that doesn't work, just tell him you're sick or something."

Why didn't I think of that? She asked herself with a roll of her eyes. Just as she was about to reply to Kimber, the lights went down and the women around her started squealing. A countdown began as fog rolled across the stage before her. An up-tempo music boomed loudly out of unseen speakers. With another roll of her eyes, she brought her opposite hand up to plug her opposite ear. She shouted over the growing noise. "Okay, I'll do that! I gotta go now Kimber! This is about to get crazy!"

"Good luck." Kimber told her before the two of them signed off.

Amy shook her head in disbelief as closed up her celluar. She pushed herself up to her feet, taking one look at the stimulated women around her before heading in the direction of the exit. Once she stepped out into the lobby and away from the madness, she opened her celluar back up and dialed Christian's number. Her stomach lurched at the thought of what she might be interrupting, but she was on a mission.

* * *

A huge grin was plastered on Christian's face as a topless blonde sauntered towards him. Leaning back against the plush sofa, his arms were splayed and rested comfortably on the back of it. He thrust his hips upward as he shifted in his seat. The pink tip of his tongue appeared from his mouth, sliding over his lips in anticipation. He was seated in a VIP section of the vast, dimly lit theater and had been thoroughly enjoying himself for the past hour. The errection in his pants was full proof of that. When he'd bought a ticket to the erotic "Crazy Girls" show over at the Riviera, he only anticipated how sexually charged he'd be by the end of the night.

As he'd watched the eight dancers perform in various states of undress, the sexy show got steamier with each number, giving him plenty of opportunity to view their famous behinds. In most numbers, the girls had stripped down to a tiny G-string. However, in one solo segment, a dancer on a rotating platform removed even that, leaving nothing to the imagination. Minute by minute, Christian had to fight off the temptation to yank one of them off stage and have his way with them. Luckily, his desires were just about to be fulfilled.

Not a word was spoken between them as the tall and tantalizing blonde climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and soon began thrusting her hips towards him. Her shapely breasts rubbed against his chest the more she moved, her delicate digits traveling up to caress his large upper body. Christian's arms came down to slip around her tiny waist, his fingers trailing over her bare curvacious bottom. Just when he expected the lap dance to go even further, he felt his celluar vibrate beneath his suit jacket. His first instinct was to ignore it. Why ruin the fun he was already having? Then, he remembered. He hadn't come to Sin City on his own. His daughter was still with him and whether he liked it or not, she was here to stay.

A frustrated sigh escaped him as he pulled one of his hands back from the dancer's bottom, and reached under his suit jacket for his celluar. Almost as if on cue, the alluring blonde slid off of him and sauntered away to another man, her hips swaying in a teasing motion as she did so. His eyes scanned over the caller ID on his cell, not surprised when he saw it was Amy calling. With a shake of his head, he flipped it open and answered it. "What's the problem, sweetheart? Aren't you having fun?" He was tempted to say she'd ruined his, but held back.

"Not exactly. I don't think buying me a ticket to this strip show was exactly my idea of fun. It's just not my thing. And..." She paused before uttering the next words. "I'm not feeling so good right now. I feel kinda sick actually."

For a moment, he didn't know whether to believe her or not, but couldn't hold back his next words. "You mean to tell me that watching men strip off their clothes and shake their asses around on stage...is making you sick." It was more said in the form of a statement rather than a question.

She exhaled sharply. "No, that's not making me sick. I just _feel _sick. Can you come and get me, please? I'm really sorry if I made you waste your money on both of these tickets, but I think I need to lie down, and...I'd really rather be spending time with you right now."

He wouldn't question her any further. A deep sigh escaped him. "I'm on my way." Before she could say anymore, he ended the call. He peered around at his surroundings one last time before rising to his feet. The night wasn't a complete loss. He'd stayed almost until the end of the show, and he'd gotten himself as sexually arroused as he could get. At least enough to satisfy him for the moment.

* * *

The chilly evening breeze swept across Amy's petite form, causing her to pull her lightweight black jacket around her more snugly. She had thought to wait inside the lobby of the hotel, but she had had just about enough of the pungent cigarette smoke that filled the air. Why did all of the casinos in Las Vegas reek of that odor? If you weren't worrying about getting mugged on the streets, it was the risk of getting second hand smoke that might kill you. She paced back and forth just outside the main entrance, waiting for Christian to arrive. He'd told her that he wouldn't be too far away if she needed him, so she should have been expecting him any moment now. She'd only been waiting out there for the past five minutes anyway.

A shiver danced down her spine, praying to God that she wouldn't _really_ get herself sick from waiting outside in this weather. She missed the warm Miami weather already. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when a black Porsche pulled up to the curb a minute later. The window on the passenger's side rolled down and Christian appeared.

His forehead wrinkled in consideration. "What are you doing? Trying to make yourself sicker? You could have easily waited for me inside."

Turning her head away so he wouldn't notice her rolling her eyes, she shrugged his remark off, although deep inside, she was touched that he actually cared about her well-being. She looked back at him before opening the door and slipping inside the vehicle. "I couldn't stand the nasty smell inside the damn casino. I'd probably get sicker either way." A soft sigh escaped her as he pulled the vehicle back onto the strip and headed back towards their hotel. Her brows furrowed inquisitively, noticing the direction they were heading. "Are we going back to the hotel?"

"You told me you were sick sweetheart," he said exasperatedly. He stole a glance over at her, a firm expression on his face. "If you're sick, you should be in bed. What exactly is wrong with you? You never did tell me."

Shit. Did she really have to make up an excuse to get out of this one? "Uh..." She fought to piece together a sentence. "My stomach hurts." Before he could say anymore or even get any closer to the hotel, she continued. "You know what? I'm really not feeling that sick. Do you think we could maybe...go somewhere else? I've been wanting to go up to the Eiffel Tower since we got here. Do you think we could do that?"

For a moment, Christian didn't bother uttering a reply. It looked as if he were debating about whether or not he should agree to it. Finally, he sighed softly and turned to look over at her with a small smile. "We can do anything you want, sweetheart. We are here after all. Why not take a trip up to the Eiffel Tower." He smiled smugly at her before turning back to the road.

It took them less than five minutes to get to the Eiffel Tower at the Paris Hotel. Using the parking garage, Christian found a parking as close to the hotel as he could get, and both he and Amy walked the short distance to the tower. After paying the ticket holder, they rode the elevator up about fifty stories until they reached the observation deck, stepping out of the lift shortly after. From four hundred and sixty feet in the air, the Las Vegas lights glittered and blinked like a Christmas tree. Shards of color danced and glowed in the moonlight.

Amy wasn't the biggest fan of heights, and even being up this high made her more than a little uneasy, but somehow, having Christian there made her feel a little better. Slowly, she stepped towards the edge and set both of her hands onto the railing, taking in the view of the shimmering Las Vegas valley all at once. Christian stepped up beside her and leaned his larger frame against the railing. A content sigh escaped him.

"God it's beautiful up here, isn't it?" He turned to look over at her, a warm smile crossing his face.

She nodded her head gently. "Yeah, it is." The same chilly but light breeze swept over her and suddenly, she found herself grabbing Christian's arm and clinging to him fretfully. The last thing she wanted was to fall over the edge and plummet to her death.

Her action caught Christian off guard at first, but he instantly adjusted and allowed his arms to envelope her petite frame in a protective embrace. He looked down at her inquisitively, "what's the matter?" He stole a glance out at the strip before bringing his focus back on his daughter. "You're not about to tell me you're afraid of heights, are you?"

She shook her head stiffly against his masculine chest. "Not really...maybe a little. It depends on how high I am."

Christian scowled before gingerly placing a kiss on top of her head, resting his cheek against it shortly after. "I would think you would have thought about that _before_ we came up here." He sighed softly, shaking his head. "There's not a chance in hell I'd ever let anything happen to you. We don't have to be up here much longer if you don't want to."

Both his words and his sign of affection warmed her heart. A soft smile crossed her face. "Thanks. I really needed that right now," she lifted her head off of his chest and looked up at him. "and thanks, for bringing me here. I really needed this trip...just to get away from all the shit at home with...well, you know."

He sighed deeply, nodding his head lightly. "Believe me, I'm more than willing to take you away from _that_ hell for at least a couple days."

She snickered before gently pulling away from him. "I'll take you up on that offer any day." Sending him a smirk, she stepped out of his embrace and turned back to gaze out at the gleaming Vegas lights.

While she stood there with her father enjoying one of Vegas' natural splendors, she was content. Content and putting the worries of her adoptive father, her mother, and her friends aside. She hadn't felt so independent than she did at that moment. Now that both she and Christian were learning to adjust, she was becoming more and more comfortable in his presence day after day. More importantly, now that she was here, she was secure. Safe...with Christian. So safe that not even her adoptive father could touch her. So maybe Christian Troy was a smug and arrogant bastard at times, but if he was, she was. There was no doubt that she was turning into him more and more each day. That "smug and arrogant bastard" side might linger in her as well.

"Part of me wishes I could stay here forever, but I think I'd miss Miami too much. Wouldn't you?" She turned her head to look over at him, but her eyes widened in astonishment when she came face-to-face with the last person she expected to see...her adoptive father.

"Your mother and I will _never_ allow that to happen. Either she has custody over you or _I_ do. You're not staying in Vegas and that's that."

Her heart began to pound in her chest. A million questions raced through her mind at that moment. How did he get here? How did he know _she_ was here? Was he stalking her now? What did he want? She swallowed the lump in her throat, looking in either direction of the deck for Christian, but he was nowhere in sight. Her body tensed up, trembling slightly out of fear without even realizing it. She tried mercilessly to form a coherent sentence. "What...what are you doing here?"

Frank Gellar was a tall and slim-hipped man but with a slightly muscular upper body, short jet black hair, deep-set brown eyes, pug nose, and a jutting jaw hidden beneath a gowtee. His bushy brows furrowed in question, almost as if he couldn't comprehend why she was speaking to him this way. He took a step towards her and in turn, she took a step back. "I thought that since you weren't returning my calls, I'd get out of New York and visit a friend of mine here in Vegas, but this is so much better. Now I can finally see my little girl." A bright smile came to his face as he stepped closer to her. He wrapped his arms around her body and urged her towards him, hugging her tightly.

She sighed irritably, wanting to step out of his embrace, but as tight as he was holding her, she knew that was impossible. She didn't hug him back though. All she did was stand there. Once he released her, she tensed up when she saw his gaze harden, knowing full well that she had upset him.

"Don't I get a hug? The least you could do is hug me. I _am_ still your father and considering we haven't seen each other in years, I think you _at least_ owe me that."

She exhaled sharply, wishing that she could just close her eyes and wake up from this nightmare. "I'm-I'm sorry Frank."

His brows arched in surprise before his eyes narrowed on her. "What did you just call me? Did you just call me Frank?" He grabbed her arm firmly, shoving her against the railing of the observation deck. She winced at the pain that radiated up her arm and her hip when her body slammed into the railing, having to grab onto the steel bars to keep herself from slipping. Her heart pounded in her chest strongly as tears welled up in her eyes, knowing perfectly well that she could fall over the edge and go splat if he swung her around hard enough. Suddenly, she wished she would have just called him her father - if not her dad, but ever since Christian came along, he was the only man she could really consider to be a _real_ father. She couldn't believe she'd let his first name slip out like that. "I'm your fucking father! I'd appreciate it if you showed me a _little_ bit of respect!"

Taking a deep breath to both collect herself and hold back on coming tears, she looked back up at him before finally stepping away from the railing. "I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry," her voice shook with emotion. Her eyes frantically searched the rest of the deck, but no one else was around. The observation deck was a welded steel structure that ran all the way around the tower in a circle. If there were other occupants on the opposite side, she wouldn't know it.

Her father's gaze grew cold once again, placing his hands firmly on his hips. "What are you crying about?" He demanded.

She shook her head with a soft sniffle, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective embrace. "Nothing." Bringing her gaze back up to him, she scowled. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just wasn't expecting you to show up here, that's all." For a moment, Frank looked as if he were going to lash out at her, but at the last minute, he sucked in a breath and remained steadfast. An allieviated sigh escaped her.

"Does your mother know you're here? Who are you here with? If your mother is here, I want to talk to her." He took a moment to look around the deck, almost expecting her mother to come out of nowhere and greet him with open arms. Of course Amy knew her mother better than that. She wouldn't just be so happy to see him, after all that happened.

Amy turned her head away with a sigh. There was no way in hell she was going to tell him about Christian. She had to keep him from losing his temper again, fearing he'd do something much worse to her. She nodded gently. "She already knows I'm here," she fibbed, "but she's not here."

"I know your mother better than that. She wouldn't just allow you to travel by yourself all the way across the country, which brings up the same question..._who _are you here with? Huh?"

She cringed, swallowing hard as her heart hammered in her chest anxiously. Her body trembled in fear as her eyes rose up to him slowly. No matter what happened, he wasn't going to get it out of her. Her eyes shifted to the opposite side of the deck, praying that wherever Christian was, he'd come and get her the hell out of here before it was too late.

Before she could turn around and walk away from him, Frank grabbed both of her wrists firmly and pulled her against him. "We're not finished here young lady!" He snapped, taking another breath before his tone got calm. "I'll ask again. Who...are you...here with!" He shook her furiously, his voice escalated with his last words. Then. Before she knew what was happening, he shoved her against the railing again, only harder than he had before. Strong enough to knock the wind out of her and ultimately send her toppling, head first, to the hard steel floor beneath her.

She cried out as the tears streamed down her cheeks, pain radiating now throughout her entire body, and her head pounding almost as much as her heart was. Her face burned and throbbed, and she wouldn't be surprised if it was bleeding. Bringing a shaky hand up to her forehead, her digits ran over something wet, and sure enough, when she brought her fingers back down, they were stained with fresh bright red blood. A painful groan escaped her as she fought to push herself up off the floor, but Frank didn't give her the chance. He was on top of her in an instant, grasping a few strands of her hair and yanking her head back.

"I'm not going to repeat myself again! Tell me who you're here with God damn it!" He cooed in her ear, "is it someone your mother is seeing?" He growled angrily, startling her as he did so. "I'll kill the son of a bitch!" When she didn't reply, another growl escaped him, his fist connecting with the side of her face. "Tell me!" He screamed.

Amy whimpered like a wounded animal, trying mercilessly to wriggle away from him, but the more she moved, the worse the pain surging through her muscles got. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking back the tears in her eyes. Christian! She needed to get to Christian! Where was he! It didn't matter where he was. If he was still here, he'd hear her. Sucking in a breath, she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Christian!" She prayed that one scream would be enough because a split second later, Frank's hand came down over her mouth to silence her. Her sobbing only grew, already anticipating he was not done inflicting pain upon her. She whimpered incessantly when he raised his arm over her head once again.

Just when she expected him to pay her another blow to the face, a large and familiar looking hand grabbed a hold of Frank's arm. Her adoptive father whirled around and there stood Christian, with a stone-cold look on his face and a fury - unlike anything she'd seen - gleaming in his eyes. An allieviated sigh escaped her.

"Get your God damn hands off my daughter!" Christian growled through clenched teeth at the man before him. The hand that gripped Frank's arm was removed quick enough for Christian to give him a forceful shove in the direction of the center of the tower, knocking the man off balance for a brief moment. The hand that had a grip on Amy's soft auburn locks breaking free along with it.

It didn't take long for Frank to collect himself and regain his footing, and when he did, he looked similiar to a bull ready to charge. His eyes fixated on Christian incriminatingly, "_your_ daughter?"

"Your daughter?" Frank shouted angrily. "She's _my_ daughter! I'm her fucking father! Who in the hell are you!"

Amy winced in pain as she pushed herself up a little more, her eyes widening in horror as she looked over at the two men. She was praying that Christian wouldn't come out and tell him, but at the same time, she was wishing he would. It was time that she showed this man he wasn't her _real_ father anymore.

Christian stole a glance over at Amy, guilt written all over his face. He turned his attention back on Frank, that icy glare filling his eyes once again. "Was beating your kid included in your God damn father's handbook!" He spat, giving the man another shove, hard enough to send him toppling to the floor. "If you were a real father, you'd give your daughter the love and respect she deserves and keep your damn hands the hell off of her!"

Amy choked back a sob, cringing as the tears rolling down her cheeks cascaded over the cuts on her face and caused them to burn. She watched in astoundment as her adoptive father fell over, but grew more overwhelmed when she saw him spring up to his feet once again and lunge towards Christian.

"You son of a bitch! Who the fuck do you think you are!" Frank screamed. He pulled his arm back, clenching his hand into a fist, and prepared to hit Christian.

Amy's heart hammered in her chest when she realized what was happening. "No!" She screamed.

Frank thrust his fist towards Christian's face, but he grabbed the man's wrist before he could get within inches of his nose. Christian growled furiously, tightening his grip on Frank's wrist. His own hand clenched into a fist, instantly connecting with the man's nose. An audible crack sounded, his head being thrown back from the pressure of the blow. Frank went down hard, grabbing his nose with a painful groan. Amy's jaw hung open as she watched the scene unfold before her, not knowing what to make of it but at the same time, thanking God that Christian was there to defend her.

"You call yourself her God damn father! Newsflash asshole, she already has one!" Christian stepped towards Amy, leaning in and taking her hand in his hand, intent on helping her up to her feet. "Let's get you the hell out of here." She raised her eyes up to him with a deep and painful scowl, but before either of them could get any farther, a growl sounded in Frank's direction and in a split second, the man had a hold of her arm.

"Where do you think you're going? You're not going anywhere with _him_! You're coming home with me!" Frank yanked on her arm, urging her towards him as she cried out in pain.

"No! Let me go!" Amy cried, struggling against his tight grip. Her eyes darted towards her birth father, who struggled himself to free her from Frank's grasp, "Christian!"

Christian's eyes narrowed to angry slits, growling ferociously through his already clenched teeth. "Let go of her asshole!" When the man refused to obey his command and yanked her even further, Christian's free hand immediately clenched into a fist and gave Frank another blow, this time in the eye. The man fell over on impact, and as he laid there curled up on the floor moaning and groaning from pain, that gave Christian enough time to help Amy up to her feet and begin leading her towards the exit of the deck. He looked down at her, concerned written all over his face. "Are you all right sweetheart?"

She looked up at him with a deep scowl, tears still left in her eyes. It was clear from the look on her face that she was not all right. She shook her head before leaning against him, using his body weight to keep her balance as she walked, wincing every now and then when her throbbing abdomen rubbed against him. They were only five feet away from her adoptive father when Christian halted his steps. Her brows furrowed inquisitively, watching him as he turned back around and approached Frank. She grabbed a hold of the steel railing to steady herself for the time being, staring in bafflement at the two men and wondering what Christian was doing. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him grab a hold of the man's collar and lean over him, a look of fury on his face.

"Don't you _ever_ lay a hand on her again or I swear I'll kill you. Are we clear!" He snarled, just before he released the man's shirt and shoved him back against the floor. "You stay the hell away from her!" He bellowed, before whirling back around on his heels. Although Frank looked too disorriented to respond, he still lifted his chin and sent an icy glare Christian's way.

Amy blinked back her astonishment, but sighed softly, more out of relief than anything else. She leaned into Christian's embrace when he stepped up beside her, one of his arms slipping around her shoulders protectively. She winced slightly at the pain in her arm when he held her a little too closely. "Ow!"

Christian sighed deeply, scowling down at her. His brows furrowing in concern. "I'm going to take care of you, sweetheart. As soon as we get back to the hotel. You're going to be fine." He exhaled sharply, stealing a glance over his shoulder before he began leading her towards the elevator they'd rode up in earlier. Once they were safely inside, the lift began descending to the ground floor.

She clung to his side, both of her arms wrapped lightly around his waist, appearing almost like a small child clinging to their father, but then, she wasn't a child. She squeezed her eyes shut, constantly thanking God that he had stopped her adoptive father when he did. The thought terrified her of what might have happened had he not been there. So much that she instinctively began to tremble against Christian. Another tear managed to roll down her cheek, feeling his hand begin to rub against her back in a soothing manner. "Thank you," she murmured.

He rested his chin on top of her head, sighing softly. "That asshole will never lay a hand on you again. I'll make sure of that, no matter what it takes." He bit down on his bottom lip, his voice softening but breaking with his next words, "you'll be safe from now on, I promise."

No matter how much she tried to prevent it from happening, she started to cry all over again. She winced as she brought herself closer to him, sobbing softly against his chest. His words were exactly what she needed to hear at the moment, and after the way in which he had come to her rescue moments before, she had no reason to doubt his promise. This many truly loved and cherished her and in turn, so did she. She could trust him with her life now, and so much more.


	24. Split Personalities

After turning his rental Porsche over to the valet, Christian helped Amy out of the passenger's side and lead her into the lobby of the high-class hotel. He looked down at her, his brows furrowing in concern as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. It was hard to look at her without getting furious with her adoptive father for what he'd done. His heart constricted in his chest at her current state, feeling more sinful by the minute. "You doing all right sweetheart?"

She looked up at him, as they neared the elevators, a scowl on her face. Suddenly, he realized there were still tears left in her eyes. It was evident she was struggling to hold herself together. He was somewhat surprised when she gently nodded her head. "Yeah," she spoke softly.

He didn't quite believe her, but decided he'd let it go for now. The most important thing at the moment was to get her taken care of before she got worse. He waited rather impatiently for the next elevator to open up. As soon as one did, not another minute was wasted as he stepped inside with her. Within seconds they were ascending to their designated floor. Neither one of them said another word to the other on the way up. Their room was located on the thirty second floor. Christian had opted for the two-bedroom Penthouse Suite. Whether he was flying first class or sitting VIP at a strip show, he always had to live the life of luxury. Especially when he was with his own daughter.

In the short time it took Christian to get to the Bellagio hotel - where he and Amy were staying - he couldn't think of anything else but how guilty he felt. A huge weight was placed on his shoulders, and he constantly asked himself the same questions over and over again. How could he be so irresponsible? How could he think to leave her alone, even for less than five minutes? He blamed himself for being such an arrogant prick all the time. He never thought about anything else but himself, and now that he had a daughter, without even realizing it, he was beginning to get careless. The old, womanizing and narcissistic Christian Troy was coming back to haunt him.

The broad corridor was relatively quiet as they stepped off of the elevator. That was to be expected considering that it was well close to midnight. Vegas might have been known for the town that never slept, but if the other occupants on their floor weren't out partying the night away or gambling, they were probably asleep. Christian continued to allow Amy to lean against him as they made their way down to their room, knowing she needed the support, both physically and emotionally. He reached under his suit jacket for their room key, stepping away from her for the moment to unlock their room and held the door open for her to step inside.

Amy wrapped her arms around herself in a protective manner as she crossed the threshold, stepping into the marble foyer. Christian stepped inside after her, shutting the door behind him and instantly flipping on the light switch near the door. He watched her movements closely, making certain she was all right to walk on her own. Once he was sure, he stepped further into the shadowy room, entering the living area. The only light that shined at the moment came from the foyer. As he searched around for the lamp to turn it on, he noticed her stumble out of the corner of his eye. In an instant, he was at her side, catching her in the knick of time before she toppled over.

"Whoa! You need to be more careful sweetheart. Are you all right?" He searched her face in the dimly lit room.

She used his forearms to steady herself and nodded her head, a soft sigh escaping her. "Yeah, sorry. There was just...a chair in my way."

Christian reached out to find the nearest lamp, and rotated the switch to turn it on. A warm glow instantly came over the extensive living and dining area. The interior of the room was upholstered in golden, cream and pink tones to fit with the sophistication of the hotel. When the area filled with light, he now noticed the extent of the cuts and bruises on her face. Most of the blood had dried up by now, but the bruises were still fresh. He sighed softly before motioning to the sofa. "Why don't you sit down sweetheart and we'll get you taken care of."

She bit down on her bottom lip apprehensively but nodded her head in regard as she sat down, wincing slightly as she did so. Christian turned on his heels and started towards the wet bar that sat across the room, suddenly realizing that he had not brought his medical bag along with him. He knew there wasn't a first-aid kit in their room. After stepping through the door on the right to enter the bar, he looked over at her, "I didn't bring any supplies with me. I'll have to obtain a first-aid kit from the hotel instead." He grabbed a towel from beneath the bar and scooped up a handful of ice, gathering it into the towel.

She leaned back against the throw pillows on the sofa and nodded once again. "Okay."

He stepped out from behind the bar a moment later, striding across the room to where she was seated and handing the towel of ice over to her. "Put this on your bruises. It should help with the pain, and bring down some of the swelling." She took the ice from him and held it against her body, on the area just below her ribs. His gaze fixated on her abdomen, his brows furrowing inquisitively. He didn't know the extent of her injuries besides those on her face, but something told him that she was in a lot more pain than she let on. Pushing aside the objects that were on the coffee table, he sat down across from her with a deep sigh. He kept his focus on the spot she was holding the ice. "Are you experiencing any pain in your abdomen, sweetheart?"

She exhaled sharply before gradually nodding her head. "A little...maybe a lot." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" Before she had a chance to reply, his hands were already reaching out towards the bottom hem of her blouse. She was hesitant but finally gave him a shake of her head. Removing the ice from her stomach, she allowed him to lift up her shirt only to reveal a large bruise with a dark blue and purple tint to it. He scowled deeply at the sight, his eyes scrutinizing the extent of it. He probed the skin around the area with his fingers, not too hard but not softly either. She winced and cried out from the pain. He stole a glance up at her, "are you having any difficulty breathing?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. It just hurts whenever something rubs against it or touches it." Her eyes began welling up in tears all over again, her voice breaking with her next words, "my...mom use to get...bruises like this. When my...adoptive father would throw her against the wall in our apartment." A tear rolled down her cheek as she sniffled softly.

He nodded his head in understanding, but froze when she began relaying the recollection of her parents to him. His hands gradually fell away as he listened to her in sorrow, his heart breaking as she began to cry. He lowered his tone of voice, reaching out to give her arm a comforting rub. "I won't allow that asshole to touch you again, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure of that. We'll file a restraining order, we'll make sure you have a safe place to stay, we'll make sure its taken care of."

She sniffled deeply, bringing one of hands up to wipe the tears from her eyes with the pad of her index finger. She shook her head, dropping her gaze to her lap. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. If you do all that, my mom is bound to find out sooner or later and when she does..." Slowly, she brought her eyes back up to meet with his. "She'll know about you. I still don't know if I'm ready to tell her yet. I have no idea how she'll react, and if she reacts badly, I might never get to..." Her voice trailed off, breaking down into tears.

Christian didn't need for her to continue. He could tell where that sentence was headed. If she told her mother, he might never get to see Amy again. In fact, it could very well end up being deja vu all over again and a custody battle could ensue the way it did with Wilbur. He had lost one child and he was not about to lose another one. He sighed in frustration before moving to sit beside her, his arm slipping around her shoulders. "I won't allow that to happen," he told her. "If you think that asshole is going to rat you out to your mother, he sure as hell isn't going to know who _I_ am. You have nothing to worry about."

She sighed wearily and rested her head on his shoulder, sniffling deeply as her tears began to die down. "Are you sure?"

To be honest, he _wasn't_ sure. He didn't know how her adoptive father's mind worked. For all he knew, this man could slip past him...again, finding some other way of getting revenge on his daughter. However, if push came to shove, Christian wouldn't let Amy out of his sight for too long. If it came to it, he'd make sure she was safe and sound back at his condo, and if that didn't pan out, he knew there was always Sean or Julia. He rested his cheek on her head with a scowl. "We'll get through this sweetheart. There's no hurry. Whenever you're ready to tell your mother, I'll leave it up to you. If it makes you feel any better, we can tell her together, all right?" She nodded her head lightly. Lifting his cheek from her head, he averted his gaze down to her abdomen, "I don't think there was any permanent damage done to your abdominal region, but an X-Ray would be more precise in determining if it was simply a bruise or possibly a broken rib."

She was already shaking her head even before he had finished his last sentence. "I don't want to...go to the hospital, Christian. Not here and not now. Please." Her eyes pleaded with his own.

Even if they were still in South Beach, Christian had a feeling that she would still refuse to go anyway. He had picked up on her fear of hospitals when they'd gone in for the paternity test. Still, it was too bad that they weren't in Florida at the moment. With enough reassurance, it was possible that he could convince her to having the X-Ray done at McNamara/Troy. A soft sigh escaped him, "It was only a suggestion. I hadn't exactly implied that we go anywhere." He placed a kiss to the top of her head before pulling back and looking her in the eyes. "I want you to keep that ice on your abdomen until I get back. I'm going to run down to the lobby and see if I can borrow a first-aid kit from the hotel."

She looked up at him as he rose to his feet, placing the ice back on her stomach as he'd instructed her to. Propping her legs up on the sofa, she sank down into the soft cushions beneath her and got comfortable, leaning her head against the pillows at the end of it. She scowled as she watched him shuffle towards the door. "Okay."

"I won't be gone long, I promise." When she didn't reply back to him, he went on. "You don't have anything to worry about, that asshole isn't going to get in without a key." She gave him a small smile, which gave him enough reassurance to turn around and continue towards the door. He was right. There was no way in hell that her adoptive father would find her there, unless of course he followed them, but even then, he had no idea what room they were in and without a key, he wouldn't even get past security.

Christian had kept his promise and had been gone no more than fifteen minutes. The hotel hadn't questioned him when he'd requested their first-aid kit, and had even believed the excuse he'd given about his friend having cut themselves pretty badly and needed to be taken care of. He'd stopped by one of the hotel shops for some pain killers before heading back upstairs. Amy was still in the same place he'd left her when he re-entered the room, except her eyes were closed. A soft sigh escaped him as he crossed the room to where she laid. For a moment, he thought she was asleep, but as soon as he set down the items in his hands down on the coffee table, a soft moan escaped her and her eyes came open. "How are you doing sweetheart?" He asked as he sat himself down on the coffee table once again, looking over at her with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She turned her head to look at him, blinking back her sluggishness. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "A little better, not much though." She scowled, bringing her free hand up to her forehead, instantly pulling it back when her fingers grazed the cut that still remained there.

He turned towards the items that sat beside him, grabbing the small box of Tylenol and holding it up for her to see. "This ought to help with the pain. As soon as we get you patched up, I'd suggest you slip into bed and get some sleep. You should be feeling better by tomorrow morning."

She nodded her head in approval before he rose to his feet once again. He disappeared into the bathroom for a towel and wet it with soap and water, returning to her not a minute later and beginning to clean the cuts on her face. She winced at the pain. He apologized, knowing how it must sting. Her next words nearly caught him off guard, but he continued on with the work at hand, patting the cuts clean with a non-soaped up area of the towel.

"Can I...ask you something?"

"Go right ahead."

"What...happened to you back at the Eiffel Tower? I mean, one minute you were there and the next..._he_ was."

He froze at her choice of words, not knowing what to say at first. Bringing his hand down, he looked down at his feet, swallowing the huge lump that had formed in his throat. He should have seen this coming even before he had swooped in to rescue her. Now that she brought it up, that guilt became ten times worse. What was he suppose to say? He couldn't very well come out and tell her the real reason why he hadn't been there. He couldn't give her the cold hard truth that he'd been distracted with some blonde. She'd hate him for sure. He exhaled sharply, replying with the first thing that came to mind, "I got a call from Sean. I just stepped away for a few minutes. I would have told you, but you seemed to be a bit distracted at the time. I never thought..." He sighed woefully before finally looking up at her, taking one of her hands in his with a squeeze. "I'll never let it happen again. You'll be safe from now on."

She scowled up at him, her brows furrowing slightly, almost as if she were deciding whether or not to believe him. For his sake, Christian hoped that she would. She looked down at their linked hands. "I'm just glad you came when you did," she spoke softly.

In all actuality, he should have been thanking _her_ for screaming as loud as she had for him at the time. God knows what would have happened if she'd waited another minute. The thought terrified him so much that his entire body went numb. For a long moment, he didn't say anything, and tried as he might to hold back his on coming emotion. The two of them just sat there in silence, the pad of his thumb rubbing lightly against the back of her hand.

"Are you done yet?"

The sound of her voice suddenly pulled him out of the trance he'd fallen into. Bringing his eyes back up to hers, he sighed and shook his head. "Not quite." Setting the wet towel aside, he opened up the first-aid kit and took out a tube of cleaning solvent, along with a few long and thin q-tips. "I'm about to apply a solvent to the cuts which will prevent any infection. It might sting a little. You'll want to let them air out for the night." He twisted the cap off of the tube and squeezed a small amount onto a q-tip. Leaning in, he began applying the transparent fluid to the cuts on her face.

She winced as soon as the q-tip touched her cuts. "Ow!" He apologized once again, but she shortly got use to the disinfectant and laid still, allowing him to continue. After a brief moment of silence, she spoke once again. "Um...Christian? I have something to tell you. I just hope you don't get mad at me."

A pessimistic feeling came over him. "Well, that all depends on what you're about to tell me, doesn't it?" He cringed at his choice of words, suddenly realizing how much he sounded like that old and arrogant bastard that still existed inside him. He went on to add, in a more gentle tone of voice, "what is it sweetheart?"

"I...I lied to you. When I told you my adoptive father hadn't been threatening me. He's been doing it a lot lately." She sighed wearily. "It seems like everytime he would call me, and he'd suspect I didn't want to talk to him...he'd start threatening me. Not really threatening to hurt me, just to remind me of..." Her bottom lip trembled with on coming tears, her voice beginning to break, "the things he use to do to me. The way he use to..." Her voice trailed off, suddenly being too overcome with emotion to finish.

He paused in what he was doing, looking down at her in sorrow. His brows stitched together in thought. He wasn't exactly mad at her. It wasn't her fault that her adoptive father had turned into such an abusive asshole. Suddenly, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what else this man had done to her, as terrible as it might be to imagine. He wondered if it was anything like the hell he had been put through when he was growing up. The recollection still made him shudder. He sighed deeply, shaking his head and reaching out with his free hand to take hers, giving it a squeeze. "I wish you would have told me about this sooner. We probably could have prevented this whole thing from ever happening."

She dropped her gaze down to her hands, exhaling sharply. "I'm sorry. Trust me, I'm wishing I had told you sooner," she spoke softly with a sniffle.

He stole a glance down at his feet before releasing her hand, and going back to patch up her wounds. "Well, it's a little late for that now." As he moved to another cut on her face, he noticed the tears that were still sliding down her cheeks, and getting in the way of his work. He paused in what he was doing and exuded a weary sigh, his gaze softening up as he looked into her hopeless eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brought his hand up once again, brushing her tears away gently with the pad of his thumb. "You need to stop crying sweetheart, otherwise I can't finish what I'm doing. Look, you're vunerable and in a good amount of pain right now, and I sympathize with you, but no one is forcing you to bring up the shattered remains of your past."

Amy nodded her head lightly, allowing him to brush away her tears. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, I'll just shut up now. It's just...sometimes when I get started, I don't know when to stop." She managed another sniffle, blinking back the tears still remaining in her eyes.

Christian shook his head, grabbing a fresh q-tip and twisting the cap off a tube of medicated cream, beginning to apply it to her cuts shortly after. "No need to apologize, we're almost done." For the next few minutes, Amy sat still and did not speak another word as he finished his work. Once he had, he closed up the first-aid kit and got up to throw away the used q-tips. When he came back out into the living area, he saw her sitting at the edge of the couch, still holding the ice to her side but ready to stand up. He stepped towards her. "Do you need some help sweetheart?"

She shook her head, rising to her feet on her own. "No, I can do it." Brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face, she shuffled towards the bedroom on the left side of the penthouse. His was stationed on the right.

He followed her into her bedroom, making certain that she wouldn't trip over anything and hurt herself as she had almost done earlier. He stayed close behind her as she moved through the shadows of the dimly lit room. The only light came from the living area, and the double floor to ceiling windows hidden behind the white silk curtains. She took the ice off of her side for a moment and stopped at her suitcase--which sat just inside the door on top of a luggage cot--opening it up and rifling through the articles of clothing inside. His brows furrowed inquisitively, wondering what she was looking for.

She looked up at him expectantly. "I need to...get changed for bed."

He nodded his head in understanding, finding it idiotic that he had overlooked that beforehand, but he wasn't about to stick around and stare at her. Not only because he was her father, but because he was also a gentlemen. He'd give her her much needed privacy. "Go right ahead." Turning on his heels, he started back in the opposite direction. While she shut the door to get changed, he occupied himself by grabbing a snack from the well-stocked mini bar. He leaned his larger frame against the wet bar, not exactly sure whether he would turn in early and get some sleep or if he'd wait until she fell asleep and go cruising along the strip.

After a few minutes, a sound drew his attention towards her bedroom. It sounded similiar to a muffled moan. A pang shot through his chest, and without hesitation, he pushed himself away from the bar and strode towards the closed door. He turned the knob on the door, leaving it a jar but not yet peeking his head inside. "Amy? Are you all right?"

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, she didn't respond.

He was tempted to open the door entirely when finally, she replied. "Yeah. It's just my side, it still hurts. I tried to sit down and...it hurt."

He scowled, a somewhat relieved sigh escaping him, having imagined that something worse had happened to her. "Can I come in sweetheart?"

"Yeah."

Without a moments hesitation, he opened the door wider and looked over to see her seated at the head of the bed, already changed and clad in a pair of satin magenta pajamas. He came over to her bedside, placing his hands on her shoulders and peering down at her intently. "Why don't we get you into bed and I'll bring you something for the pain."

She nodded her head gently, rising to her feet carefully and pulling back the covers on the king-sized bed. He noticed her cringe when she sat herself down again, and assured her there was no hurry and she should take her time. Once she was seated, he aided her in slipping the rest of her body in between the sheets until she was lying flat on her back.

He brought the covers up and tucked them in around her snugly, "there you go." He gave her a soft smile. After informing her that he was going to get her pain killers, he exited the room. After obtaining a bottle of water from the mini bar, he returned a few minutes later and urged her to sit up. Once she had taken the medicine, she settled back down in bed. "You should get some sleep now," he told her solemnly.

She sighed in frustration. "I don't know if I can. After all that's happened..." Her voice trailed off.

He scowled. "It's not going to kill you to try, sweetheart. After all you've been through today, you _need_ the rest." He didn't know if it was merely the shadows in the room or his own imagination, but he could have sworn he saw tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"I know your bedroom is all the way on the other side of the penthouse, but...I'm scared to be alone right now. I don't want to be alone. Will you..." She took in a breath to compose herself before she continued. It was evident she was trying hard not to break down and cry again. "Will you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?"

A smile played at the corners of his mouth, nodding his head gently. "Of course," he murmured. The two of them exchanged a small smile before he rounded the bed to the opposite side, settling down beside her shortly after. He turned onto his side, propping his elbow up on the pillow beneath it and leaning his head on his hand. Reaching over, he set his opposite hand on one of her arms that was draped over the comforter, giving it a warm and comforting rub.

She looked up at him with a soft smile. "Thank you. Not just for this, but...for everything. You don't know how much I appreciate what you did for me tonight. Having you here...I haven't felt this safe in a long time."

Those words warmed Christian's heart, much in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time. At least, not since Wilbur. This time, they meant twice as much to him because they were coming from his own child. One, that without him, wouldn't have been given life. Suddenly, he felt whole again. He never thought that she would be able to fill that void in his heart where Wilbur had once been, but as he laid there next to her, he wished he could freeze the moment and keep it with him forever. He smiled softly at her, biting down on his bottom lip to hold back on coming tears. The hand that was on her arm moved down to grasp hers with a gentle squeeze, the pad of his thumb rubbing against the back of her hand. A soft sigh escaped him. "As difficult as it may have been for me to accept in the beginning...I'm glad that you came to me when you did."

"So am I," she murmured. After a brief moment of silence, she followed with a "good night" and shut her eyes.

Leaning in, he placed a paternal kiss to her forehead. "Good night sweetheart."

* * *

Christian stepped through the velvet curtained entryway of the Caramel bar and lounge. It was a low-key and spacious lounge with a distinct atmosphere, located on the casino floor of the hotel. The vibe was smooth, clean and sophisticated with rich caramel colored leather couches; lounge layout and custom designed up-lit marble "community table." The ambiance would make anyone immediately want to relax with a fine cigar and an extravagant martini. The lounge's generous seating and ambient lighting allowed Christian to marvel at both the impressive design and the revelers passing through. With two signature opaque marble tables and two oversized community ottomans, it was the ultimate setting for sophisticated lounging. There were also two elevated 42-inch plasma TV screens which were strategically placed above the bar and above the entryway. A Rolling Stone's song was playing over unseen speakers as he entered.

He knew that he probably shouldn't have just left Amy alone back in the hotel room, but he was confident that she would be safe and sound when he returned. After all, she was asleep so she wouldn't even realize he was gone, and let's face it, no one but him would be able to get in anyway. While one part of him had decided against turning in to sleep, another part of him wanted to venture outside of the confides of that room and be alone for a little bit. He knew that he could have easily gotten himself a stiff drink from the bar in the penthouse, but he also needed to be amongst other people. At least for a while. As selfish as it might seem at the moment, a part of him wanted to get his mind off of all responsibilites of fatherhood, and just be free to be back in his usual atmosphere.

"What can I get you?" The tall, rugged, dark brown haired and blue eyed bartender asked Christian, shortly after he took a seat at the back bar.

"Macallan 18."

The bartender nodded his head in approval, "coming right up." He turned away from him to pour his scotch, returning less than a minute later and setting the glass down before him.

Christian thanked the man before bringing the rim of the glass up to his lips, taking a swig. The hard liquor slid down his throat and instantly settled into his system, but he knew that it was going to take more than one drink to get him wasted. Setting the glass back down in front of him, he sighed softly before taking a moment to survey his surroundings. There was a fair amount of other guests in the lounge, but not too many, which surprised him. Especially with it being near one thirty in the morning on a Saturday.

"Is this seat taken?" A husky voice asked.

The voice sounded just over his right shoulder. Turning his head in the direction it had come, he came face-to-face with a trim, petite and tanned blonde. Being a plastic surgeon, he had an eye for beauty and for facial features, but the first initial thing that stood out about this young woman wasn't her flawless beauty. It was the familiarity of her features. She resembled Amy. The only difference between the two young women was their hair color, their complextion, and definitely the tone of their voices. For a long moment, he didn't know what to say or even how to respond. He was too dumbfounded by the similiarity. Finally, a smug smile crossed his face. "Not yet." He nodded towards the bench before taking another swig of his drink.

The Amy look-alike hopped up onto the stool with ease, crossing one leg over the other. She was clad in a short and slinky, low-cut black dress with matching heels. A smirk crossed her face, and it was eerie how much she looked like his daughter when he saw it. "It is now."

A smirk stretched across his own face, and despite how weird it might have been that she resembled his own daughter, he couldn't keep his eyes from traveling over her figure lustfully. He brought his eyes back up to hers. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Her smirk stretched into a genuine smile. "That's awfully sweet of you, thank you." She took notice of the drink that sat before him, tilting her head to one side in consideration. "Anything but scotch. I can't stand the stuff. It reminds me too much of my daddy." She turned her head away as soon as the words left her mouth.

He froze at her choice of words. He didn't know why, but those last words coming from her seemed to spark some sort of emotion in him. Maybe it was the way in which she had phrased them or maybe his mind was still fixated on the events of the night. Either way, he found himself swallowing the huge lump that had taken form in his throat. He cleared his throat with a tight smile. "Then what'll it be sweetheart?"

She turned her body towards him, her ankle rubbing deliberately against the inside of his leg. Leaning towards him slightly, her warm breath caressed his ear. So much so that he instantly became arroused. "I'll have a Sicilian _Kiss_ Martini."

He could feel his temperature suddenly rise, and along with it, so did his heart rate. Was he really becoming sexually arroused over this Amy look-alike? Part of him was a bit disturbed by his overwhelming arrousal, but another part of him wanted to take full advantage of it. Exhaling sharply, that same smug smile appeared on his face. Signaling the bartender, he ordered her drink and turned his attention back on her once the man left to prepare it.

"Thank you," she smiled appreciatively at him.

He returned her smile. "My pleasure." Grabbing his glass, he took another sip of his scotch, keeping his eyes on her the entire time.

The Amy look-alike placed one of her hands on her thigh, and placed the elbow of her opposite arm on the bar. The pink tip of her tongue appeared from her mouth to slide across her lips. "So, what's a tall, dark and handsome man such as yourself looking for tonight? Pleasure or poison?"

He couldn't keep the errection from taking form in his pants. The moment he saw her tongue appear and moisten her lips, he could imagine that same tongue moistening his flesh. His brows arched expectantly. "Well, that really all depends on what you mean by that sweetheart."

"I mean..." She leaned in closer to him. The hand that had been on her thigh was placed on his own thigh, and slowly began inching up towards his crotch. She cooed her next words into his ear, "are you looking for pleasure, daddy?"

He inhaled sharply as he felt her hand snake its way up his thigh, his errection standing on end. As prepared as he was to make a move and return the favor, his arrousal soon evaporated at the word "daddy," bringing him back to reality. He sighed softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "As tempting as it might be, I think we should put that on hold for the moment." Turning back towards the bar, he took a large gulp of his scotch just as the bartender came back with her drink.

A disappointed sigh escaped the young woman, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see her shake her head. Her hand came away from his thigh, turning to thank the bartender before sipping her drink. She turned her head back to Christian. "So I assume since pleasure isn't on your agenda, you must be drowning out your sorrows with scotch." Her brows furrowed, cocking her head to see his face. "Tell me, what could possibly be troubling a gorgeous man like you? Girlfriend just break-up with you? Wife screwing your best friend?"

He nearly choked on his scotch at her last words. She was certainly one to pry, wasn't she? Then again, he could pry right back. He bit down on his bottom lip, looking back over at her intently. "It's a little more complicated than that, sweetheart, and at the moment, I have no current commitments. Surprised?" A smug smile stretched across his face.

The Amy-look alike took the rock candy swizzle stick from her martini glass, sliding it between her lips and sucking on it slowly, but in a deliberate way to get him to notice; and notice he did. A coy smile appeared on her face. "Maybe a little, but you know..." She paused in her sentence, sliding the swizzle stick further into her mouth and then slowly sliding it out. Her tongue appeared from her mouth once again, sliding over her lips to lick the sweet candy taste off of them. She lowered her tone of voice, reaching out and setting her hand back on his thigh, leaning towards him once again. "A man like yourself doesn't need to work hard...to get laid around here."

He wanted her. Oh God how he wanted her, but having sex with her would probably be as eerie as having sex with his own daughter. While a deeper part of him wanted to explore that fantasy, a bigger part of him was repulsed by it. He held her gaze for a long moment, his conscious pulling him in two different directions. He wouldn't dare take her back to _his_ room. That would not only be rude of him to do with Amy there, but it would probably be twice as weird. However, if he allowed her to take him back to her room, it wouldn't be a problem at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook the thoughts out of his head, almost as fast as they'd come. No! He was a father now, and his daughter had to come first...not him. He opened his mouth, ready to turn down her offer when a familiar voice stopped him.

_"Jesus, stop being such a God damn prude."_

Christian's brows furrowed inquisitively. For a split second, he thought the voice was simply in his head, but as he turned his head to look in the opposite direction of the bar, he came face-to-face with none other than...himself. He blinked back his astonishment. It was a hallucination. It had to be. The scotch was probably making him crazy. Once he got over his surprise, he scoffed and sent a glare his way. "Who the hell are you calling a prude? I am _not_ a God damn prude." He turned his head away from the double, taking a large gulp of his scotch.

_"A beautiful woman waltzes up to you at a bar, gets you off within a split second and you're stupid enough to turn her away? You and I both know that classifies you as a prude..." His other self scoffed_._ "Pussy."_

He narrowed his eyes on himself, inhaling sharply when he felt the hand on his thigh moving up towards his crotch. "Incase you haven't noticed, I'm a God damn father now. I have a daughter. I hardly think that sex should be at the top of my list at the moment."

_He shook his head in disbelief. "You couldn't be more pathetic. Is this what you've been reduced to? A weak and inhibited excuse for a father? You've been down this road before, and you know damn well where it left you. Save yourself the God damn torture, screw the little bitch, and walk away."_

Feeling the Amy look-alike's hand rub against the errection already in his pants, and hearing the harsh words from his own mouth, his temper began rising to the surface. "I can't!" He snapped. Suddenly the thought of screwing his own daughter made his stomach turn. This whole conversation with himself was entirely in his head. He was sure of it by now. If he was actually speaking these words outloud, the young woman beside him would have probably high-tailed it out of there the moment she heard the words, 'I'm a God damn father.' "I'm a different man now!" He guzzled the scotch from his half-empty glass.

_"Oh bullshit! You haven't changed, you're just repressed. You proved it tonight when you left the poor girl to fend for herself against her abusive father. Face the cold hard facts..." His double leaned towards him, narrowing his eyes slightly as a smug smile crept across his face, "you would have rather gotten laid to that hot blonde you met at the Effiel Tower." _

That did it. Christian slammed the empty glass down onto the bar before him, almost enough to break it in the process, fixing his icy cold gaze on his other self. "Screw you asshole! I'm not the same arrogant and insensitive prick I once was, and if you don't believe it, you can kiss my ass!"

_An amused laugh escaped the second Christian, almost as if his own words had been nothing but a joke."Well I would, but seeing as how it's physically impossible for me to kiss my own ass, I'll have to pass." He sat back in his seat, that smug smile remaining. _

At this point, Christian was on the verge of exploding, which was a bit pointless considering that he was only angry at himself. Suddenly, he felt that familiar warm breath caressing his right ear, and that familiar husky voice followed.

"I can think of better ways to drown out your sorrows than with a glass of scotch."

He snapped out of his hallucination and turned his head back to the Amy look-alike. Before he had a chance to debate, she grabbed his empty glass and set it out of his reach, "it looks like you've had a little too much already." Leaning closer, the inside of her thigh deliberately rubbed against the inside of his. He inhaled sharply, his heart beginning to pound strongly in his chest as his body temperature rose to the surface. A coy smile crossed her face, setting both of her hands on his thighs and allowing them to travel upwards, over his crotch and up his chest. He swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly being too overwhelmed with arrousal to pull back. She cooed into his ear once again, "let's go back to my place baby, and I'll make you forget all about that pain you so desperately want to get rid of."

Christian was dumbfounded about his next course of action. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when they came open again, the Amy look-alike no longer held any differences to his own daughter. She _was_ his daughter. He blinked back his astonishment, knowing that it was yet another hallucination. He took in a breath to calm himself, trying to get past the tricks his mind was playing on him, but it only seemed to be getting worse.

_"Jesus Christ! Stop being such a God damn pussy and screw her!"_

His head whipped around once again to see his double staring back at him, but the second Christian was no longer alone. His own daughter had materialized beside him. He took in a breath to calm himself, subconsciously shooting daggers at his double. "I don't get off screwing my own daughter, asshole!"

_"Oh stop denying the inevitable! You've wanted to screw her ever since the day she waltzed into your office. You and I both know how badly you want it." The second Christian turned towards his daughter, grabbing her by the small of her back and urging her towards him. An evil grin spread across his face. He turned his head back to him, his eyes narrowing. "Take her. You know you want her."_

"You shut the hell up! I'm not into this incest bullshit!" Christian growled, turning his head away and trying mercilessly to bring himself back to the reality of the moment. He squeezed his eyes shut once again and when he opened them, he no longer saw Amy sitting beside him. He saw her look-alike. He exhaled sharply, somewhat relieved.

Her brows furrowed inquisitively, one of her hands sliding up and down his chest. "What's wrong baby? Don't you want me?"

Suddenly, he heard moaning. Consistent, audible, and pleasurable moaning coming from behind him. Stealing his attention away from the Amy look-alike, he turned his head towards the sound. His stomach lurched and his eyes widened in astonishment at the sight before him.

_His double was hunched over the bar, pants down and positioned on top of none other than...Amy. Her lower half was bare and her legs were wrapped around his torso. Their eyes were closed, and both of their faces were filled with pleasure. Amy's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath she took, as the second Christian pumped in and out of her rapidly. His hands were grasping both of her thighs as he thrusted faster and faster inside of her. He turned his head to look over at Christian, a wicked grin on his face. "You want her. Stop denying yourself of a good screw and take it! Take her. You can have her right now if you wanted to. Go up to that room and take her God damn it!"_

Christian swallowed hard, suddenly feeling as though he were going to be sick. His head shook slowly from side to side, watching the vulgar scene unfold before his eyes. It was all too much to stomach, especially listening to his daughter's urgent moaning. He could hardly believe he was hearing those words coming from _her_ mouth.

_"Oh! Oh! Christian! Yeah! Give it to me daddy! Oh yeah, come on daddy! I'm almost there."_

If this were real, he probably would have advised her not to call him "daddy," but then again, he wasn't sick enough to screw his own daughter, and he never would be. Regardless of that fact, this other Christian didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, from the grin still plastered on his face, he was actually enjoying it, which only made things worse than they actually were. He shook his head once again, certain he couldn't take anymore of this. The moaning faded into the background as he turned back in the opposite direction. Bringing both of his hands up, he grasped both of the Amy look-alike's wrists and removed her hands from his chest. He had to practically push the words out of his throat, fixing his gaze on the young woman. "Sorry sweetheart, but I'm really not interested." Reaching under his suit jacket, he fished out his wallet, opening it up and slipping out a few bills to pay for both their drinks. He tossed the cash onto the bar as he rose to his feet.

The Amy look-alike seemed dumbfounded, but it didn't take her long to get over it and turn herself back to the bar, a frustrated sigh escaping her. "Your loss baby, but for what it's worth..." She stole a glance over her shoulder, her eyes trailing over his body once again, "a body like yours is a terrible thing to waste."

A scowl crossed his face as he brushed past her. He had to get the hell out of there now. If he stayed any longer, he could wind up doing something he might regret, either to himself or someone else. Even as he started walking away, that familiar and incriminating voice of his returned, still playing on his last nerves.

_"It's hard enough for you to find good pussy in South Beach, but when it's offered to you in Sin City, you'd rather play house with your daughter than get laid. Not a damn thing kept you from sticking your dick out there when you were Wilbur's father! The circumstances haven't changed, asshole. You're just too much of a God damn prude to go back to your old ways."_

He scoffed, knowing perfectly well that if he looked back, he'd see himself seated at the bar again, probably with that familiar smug smile on his face. Instead of uttering a reply, he continued on his way. Those last words stayed with him the whole way back to the hotel room, echoing in his mind and reminding him of what a fraud he was. He might as well consider himself simply a man in a mask. Maybe it was the scotch that was causing his mind to play tricks on him, and had caused him to see things back at the bar, but suddenly, he wasn't feeling so confident anymore in his new role as Amy's father.

When he arrived back at the penthouse, he crept towards Amy's bedroom, peeking his head inside to make sure that she was still sleeping soundly. Sure enough, she was sleeping like a baby. Turning back around, he found himself entering the wet bar and pouring himself yet another glass of scotch. He sighed deeply as he leaned his hip against the bar, guzzling it down in a short amount of time. He poured himself another glass, then another. By the time he was finished, he tottered towards his bedroom, undressed and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	25. Goodbye To You

"Your father called me this afternoon."

Amy nearly choked on her glass of Sprite when her mother spoke those words. The words she had been dreading to hear since she had returned to Miami, and had sat down to dinner with her that very next day. It was hard enough to figure out the reason why Christian had been acting out of sorts when she'd woken up that morning, but what was even weirder was his sudden change of plans to catch the next flight back to South Beach. They'd had a quick and somewhat quiet breakfast, and then two hours later, they were checking out of their room and boarding their plane. Something had definitely been going on, but she couldn't figure out what. He seemed different in a way. Different from how attentive and paternal he'd been the night before when he was patching up her wounds. She had a bad feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

She tried mercilessly to piece together some sort of reply to her mother's words, but found herself stammering. "Um...h-he did?"

Teresa Gellar sighed deeply, setting her fork down and pausing in her half-eaten steak and mashed potatoes dinner. "Why did you lie to me honey? Why did you tell me you were staying at Courtney's house when you weren't? What made you think you could fly nearly all the way across the country with some strange man?" The woman raised her voice as she continued interrogating her daughter. "Who is he? Do you even know him? Why haven't _I_ met him?"

Amy bit down on her bottom lip, holding back on coming tears. Squeezing her eyes shut, she dropped her fork, placing her head in her hands and trying to block out her mother's voice. She should have anticipated her mother would dole out all those questions the moment she found out. A migraine began taking form in her head. "Mom! Stop! Please stop!" The tears welled up in her big brown eyes and began rolling down her cheeks.

Teresa fell quiet for a moment. Amy was relieved, praying that she had enough sense to leave her alone for now. Unfortunetly, her mother continued.

"I want to know what you were doing in Las Vegas, and I want to know who this strange man is. The fact that you lied to me is unacceptable, and unless you tell me the truth right now, you're not leaving this house."

Her body trembled as she began sobbing softly to herself. She knew there was no way out of this situation, and now, more than ever, she hated her adoptive father. Hated him with every fiber of her being. He was ruining her life all over again. With a sniffle, she slowly raised her eyes to stare at her mother incriminatingly. "Did he even tell you what he did to me? Why haven't you thought to ask me about the cuts on my face, or do you want to see the bruise on my stomach because guess who they were from?"

Her mother's eyes scrutinized her features, scowling gravely. A hint of concern flashed in her eyes. "Your father did that to you or was it that man? I want to know everything that happened in my absence, including what would you compell you to go off with a total stranger without informing _me_ about it."

Amy's brows furrowed. "Mom! It was _dad_! Christian took _care_ of me!" She shouted. Her eyes widened, suddenly realizing her slip up, but it was too late to take it back. Her mother already knew his name.

Teresa's brows arched in astonishment. "Christian? Is that his name? What did he do? Tell me!"

Her heart constricted in her chest. Her mother yelling at her like this was taking her back to the whole scene on the Effiel Tower, and she couldn't bear to re-live it again. She took in a breath to calm herself before speaking softly. "It's a long story, but even if I told you, you wouldn't understand anyway. You'd find a way to keep me away from him."

"_Who_ is he? You could start by telling me that."

Amy's heart pounded anxiously in her chest. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat as she took in a deep breath to calm herself. "He's...a friend."

"He's a little too old to be your friend, don't you think? Your father told me he had to be at least in his mid-thirties. Where would you have met such an older man?"

She exhaled sharply, saying the first thing that came to mind. "Mom, he's my friend's dad. Not Courtney's dad because you've already met him. He's...Kimber--ly's dad. My friend Kimberly from my acting class. Earlier this week, she invited me to go with her and her dad to Vegas. I was going to tell you, but I knew you'd freak out."

Her mother's brows furrowed incriminatingly. "So you kept it from me all this time? If you had an adult with you on your trip, you should have known I would be okay with it. That is if you would have introduced us beforehand. Why didn't you tell me this?" She shook her head in disbelief, reaching out to take her glass in her hand, bringing the rim up to her lips and taking a sip of water.

A somewhat allieviated sigh escaped Amy's lips, praying to God that her lie would hold out long enough for her mother to drop it entirely. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know."

"That's not an answer. Why couldn't you have told me this in the first place? And why on earth would this man have the nerve to hit your father?"

The tears were stung her eyes. "Because he hurt me! God mom! Have you even been listening to a damn thing I've said! Dad hurt me and Christian stopped him! Christian _saved_ me! He took care of me when no one else could. He came to my rescue!" She choked back a sob as she continued relaying the story to her mother, "dad was beating me mom...just like he use to. We were six hundred feet up in the air at the Effiel Tower and dad was there. He hit me mom. He hit me and he knocked me down and...if he...if he had kept hurting me..." Her voice trailed off, breaking down into tears. She couldn't hold it in any longer. The flood gates had opened with no intention of closing anytime soon.

The moment she broke down, Teresa was on her feet and stepping towards her daughter. The woman took her in her arms, allowing her to cry on her shoulder and hushing her cries as best she could. "Shhh, shh. It's okay honey, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Your father isn't here, he can't hurt you anymore."

Amy's sobbing only grew when her mother held her in her arms. She felt as though she hadn't been held this way by her in years, and it made it that more emotional for her. Suddenly, nothing mattered to her. Not her adoptive father, not the big secret she was still keeping from her mother, and not even Christian's sudden change of behavior. This was the comfort and reconcilation she had needed from her mother after so long. She didn't want to say anymore, for fear she'd ruin the moment.

"You're going to have to give me Kimberly's number."

Her eyes had been closed, but they instantly came open at those words. She pulled back and looked up at her mother, her brows furrowing inquisitively. "Why?"

"Well to thank her father for what he did. It's the least I could do."

The thought hadn't occured to her that her mother would want to talk to the man, let alone Christian, and if she told her the truth that there really _wasn't_ a Kimberly, she knew they'd be right back at square one. Her heart pounded madly in her chest as she searched for a way out of this situation. "Um, mom? I don't...h-have her number. She has mine...but I don't have hers."

Teresa scowled, her brows stitching together in bafflement. "Well honey, I'd think that if you were such good friends with her and knew her father well enough, you'd at least have her number. She hasn't given it to you in the time you've been friends?"

She shook her head with a woeful sigh, swallowing the huge lump in her throat. "No. She...called _me_."

Her mother nodded in regard. "I see. Well then, I suppose we'll just have to wait until she calls you again." The woman turned back around to return to her seat. Amy sighed softly, but just when she thought the subject had been dropped, her mother whirled back around to her with a determined look on her face. "You know honey, Kimberly's father could have given me a call to let me know you were safe and sound. Was he unable to get to a phone while you were in Las Vegas?"

Shit, she was caught. "He didn't really have time. We were busy, seeing the sights and everything."

Teresa crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "From one parent to another, I'm sure he would have known that I was worried about you. I would have thought he'd at least alert me of the situation before your father did. There's another thing that also seems a little odd to me..."

Amy's heart was hammering against her chest, so loud that she was sure her mother would hear it and see right through her lies, much in the way she would see through the lies if she'd been connected to a lie detector. She held her breath as she waited for the woman to utter her next words.

"Why would you think I would keep you away from this man? Christian, was it? Why are you so attached to him? I could understand if it was Kimberly that you were worried I'd disapprove of, but why her father? Amy, what is going on? This whole story doesn't seem to make any sense." Teresa shook her head in discouragement, gazing firmly at her daughter. "You're keeping something from me, Amy. I can see it on your face. I want you to tell me the truth."

She cringed, biting down on her bottom lip to hold back the tears that wanted to escape her. There was no way out now. She turned her head away, not having the courage to look her in the eye when she spoke. Her voice shook with emotion, "mom...I'm telling you the truth."

Teresa crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I don't believe you are. Answer my questions, Amy. Why are you so attached to this man? What happened between the time that you met Kimberly and today? How long _have_ you known Kimberly?"

She shook her head vigorously, bringing both of her hands up to her head. She couldn't listen to this anymore. The more her mother spoke, the harder it was becoming to keep her composure and her sanity together. Then, before her mother even had the chance to debate with her, she pushed up to her feet and strode out of the dining room, heading into the foyer.

"Amy! Where are you going? I'm not done talking to you! Come back here!"

As much as she tried to hold herself together, she couldn't do that anymore either. The tears were already streaming down her cheeks, and continued to fall even as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She didn't have to look back to know that her mother was trailing behind her. The woman's voice followed her through the foyer and up the stairs, pleading for her to come back. Instead of saying anything in reply, she merely quickened her pace, striding down the broad hall towards her bedroom. She knew that her next plan of action would probably be pointless, but she didn't know what else to do.

"Amy! Come back! I want you to tell me what's going on. I know something is going on. Come back here!"

She shook her head, sniffling softly. Throwing open the door to her bedroom, she stepped inside and grabbed her suitcase she had left beside her bed when she'd come home earlier that day. Hoisting it up onto the bed, she unzipped it, gathered the dirty clothes in her arms and tossed them onto the floor. Dashing towards her chest of drawers, she began yanking them open and tossing clothes and under garments into her suitcase. All the while, continuing to sob softly.

"What do you think you're doing? Why is your suitcase open? Are you _leaving_?" Teresa marched into the room, hands firmly planted on her hips. "Oh no, no! I'm not letting you out of this house. No!"

Amy whirled around when her mother entered the room, taking her eyes off of her suitcase and staring at the woman intently. "I'm not staying here anymore! I can't take anymore of this! I can't take you bitching at me like this! I'm not a child. I'm almost twenty years old and you won't even let me be friends with whoever the hell I want to." She sniffled deeply, screaming with her next words, "Why can't you just leave me alone!" Turning back to her suitcase, she brought one of her hands up to wipe the tears from her eyes. Striding towards her closet, she took out a few more articles of clothing and set them inside the suitcase.

"I'm not saying you can't be friends with him, but I'd really like to know who he is. If this man had any sense at all, he would have called me---"

"He does have sense! He has a lot more sense than you do, and he treats me the way a real father or parent should treat their daughter! He takes care of me, and..." She choked back a sob, "he loves me."

Teresa's brows arched in surprise. "What about Chris? He's tried to be a father to you so many times, but you don't seem to appreciate a thing he does. You refuse to like him even when he's been nothing but nice and friendly to you. How long have you known Christian? I sure don't think you've known him as long as you have Chris, and you can't say that you have because I would have found out about him a long time ago. What earns him the right to be called your father?"

Her last words were almost like a stab to the heart. She had to get out of there and fast because the longer this went on, the more painful it all became. Metaphorically, she was shrinking smaller and smaller by the minute, and growing even more fragile than she had started out being. If she wasn't careful, she would have an anxiety attack. Turning away from her mother, she dashed back to her chest of drawers and grabbed two pairs of satin pajamas, one black and the other magenta. Her sobbing grew louder the more her mother spoke.

"There's no reason for you to be crying over this. Why are you crying? Why can't you just tell me the truth? Why is it so hard for you to do? I don't believe you don't even have your friend's number. Why is it that you never mentioned Kimberly before? Do you even _have_ a friend named Kimberly? Amy, answer me."

She shook her head vigorously, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears away as her body shook with emotion. "I can't! Just stop! Just stop talking!"

"I will not stop talking. Why can't you answer me these simple questions? What are you hiding from me? I really would like to know Amy, right this minute."

She blinked back the tears in her eyes, grabbing her portable CD player from beside her stereo, a few books from the shelf above it, magazines, and a handful of CDs from her black CD tower. "I'm not hiding anything! Just leave me alone mom! I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please! Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand anyway." Dropping the arm load of objects into the suitcase, she stepped back into the hallway and hurried into the bathroom, collecting her toiletrees from beside the sink.

"What wouldn't I understand? Is there something going on between you and this man that I have yet to know about?" Teresa followed her to and from the bathroom, and before Amy could step back into her bedroom, she took the liberty of stepping into the doorway and blocking her from going any further. "You are _not_ leaving this house! I will not allow it."

Amy fixed her eyes on her mother in an icy glare, her temper boiling to the surface. "Get out of my way!" She shouted furiously.

Her mother shook her head firmly. "I will not get out of your way. You're not going anywhere! You are still my daughter and you're still living under my roof. I still make the rules."

"You're not my real mother!" She screamed, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I don't need you anymore! I already have someone and they love me. They love me more than you and they actually care enough to let me do whatever the hell I want." Shoving the woman out of her way, she brushed past her and scurried towards her crammed suitcase.

Teresa was not only dumbfounded and infuriated by her daughter's action, but also by her choice of words. For a moment, she didn't say anything, and Amy was thankful for that. At least it gave her a few minutes of peace to close her suitcase, and begin filling her backpack with a few other essential items. Her hairbrush, cosmetics, text books, and an extra pair of shoes. Although her back was turned to her mother, she heard a sniffle that wasn't her own and she realized then that the woman was beginning to cry.

"Who? Christian? How do you know that you can actually trust this man? Amy, you may think of him as a father, but he's not your actual father."

She froze at her last words, her heart skipping a beat and nearly shot up to her throat. Another tear cascaded down her cheek. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat, her heart drumming madly in her chest. Without so much as having to turn around, she could sense that her mother had noticed her tension. It was almost telepathic. She exhaled sharply, shook her head, and sniffled audibly in a vain attempt to cover up the overwhelming tension of the moment.

"Amy..."

Amy said a silent prayer in her head as she zipped up her backpack and turned around to face her. Her heart pounded fiercely as she stood there, staring back at her mother, dreading that her secret was already out.

"What is going on? I want the truth. I want to know exactly what is going on between you and this man. I will not allow you to leave until I get some answers." Teresa's voice escalated, "do you hear me Amy? You are not leaving!"

A deep and almost allieviated sigh escaped her, but it didn't cause her heart to pound any less. Ignoring her mother's words, she turned back around and grabbed the strap of her backpack, slipping it onto her right shoulder. Grabbing the strap on her suitcase, she lowered it to the floor before grasping the handle and turning back to face Teresa. She sniffled softly, bringing her free hand up to wipe away the stray tears in her eyes. A look of determination was fixed on the woman's face, tears still present within her sorrowful eyes. While it made Amy feel slightly guilty, she'd feel guiltier if she told her the truth. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I have to mom. I can't stay here anymore. If you love me, you'll let me go. I _need_ to leave and nothing you say or do is going to stop me."

Teresa slowly shook her head, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "No, I will not allow it. Where are you planning on going anyway? To Kimberly's house or to Courtney's? The least you can do is tell me where you're going. If you want to take a few days to spend at a friend's house, I might allow it, but if you're planning on staying somewhere else where I won't be able to get a hold of you, well you can forget it."

She sighed irritably, not missing a beat when she spoke. "I'm going to Kimberly's!" At least if she left her mother with the indication that she was staying at this supposed "friend"'s house, she wouldn't be able to get a hold of her because she wouldn't know the number, but she wasn't about to get her hopes up just yet.

"Do you even _have_ a friend named Kimberly?" Teresa pressed.

Amy scoffed with a shake of her head. This had gone on far too long. All she wanted to do was to get out of there, never to look back again. She made a move towards the door but the woman blocked her path once again. "Get out of my way mom!" She shouted. "I'm leaving and you can't stop me!"

"No you are not."

"Yes I am!" She screamed, giving her mother a firmer shove than before and breezing past her out the door. The suitcase moved swiftly along behind her as she stalked towards the stairs, still disregarding her mother's demands for her to come back. Once she reached the landing, her hand grasped the strap of the suitcase and proceeded to lug it down the stairs as quickly as she could muster, but with all the stuff she'd crammed into it, it was harder than she thought.

"Amy! Come back here right now!"

She was halfway down the stairs when Teresa appeared at the top of the landing. Sighing in frustration, she tugged a little harder on the suitcase until she finally just gave up and let go, letting it tumble the rest of the way down the staircase. Stealing a glance up at her mother, she growled irritably before whirling back around and dashing down the stairs. Stepping down off the last step, she reached down and grasped the handle of her suitcase before reaching for the knob to the front door.

"Amy! Don't you dare walk out that door! Do you hear me? Don't walk out that door!"

Suddenly, the tears began welling up in her eyes all over again. Turning back around, she locked eyes with her mother. The woman was only three steps up from the bottom of the stairs, tears still in her eyes. Amy took in a breath to try and compose herself, but her tears were already on their way down her cheeks. Her voice shook with emotion. "Ever since I turned eighteen, you've been treating me like a child. You've been putting nothing but pressure on me to go out and face the real world, to get a job, to make something of myself, and you've always brought me down. You spend more time with Chris than you do with me, and now that I've finally found someone else who actually treats me like a mature adult instead of an immature teenager, you won't even let me be with them. I don't need you to hold my hand anymore. I don't need you to watch out for me. I can take care of myself, and if I can't...I still have Christian. He'll take care of me because he loves me...for me."

She choked back a sob. It took all of the strength inside her to utter her last words, "even if he _doesn't_ love me...I know he'd never force me into anything." Gradually, she turned back to the door and pulled it open but paused at the sound of her mother's voice.

"Amy!"

She sniffled softly, looking back at her with a deep scowl. "I'm sorry mom. I just need to be alone right now." Without giving her mother the chance to say anymore, she stepped out into the chilly night air, a light breeze caressing her face and enveloping her petite frame. She shut the door behind her. It all seemed so final. She felt almost like a convict, finally stepping out into the world after being shut away in a prison cell for years that seemed to stretch on forever, wondering when she'd ever get to see the light of day. Without so much as a look back, she marched towards her car and loaded her suitcase and backpack into the passenger's side. All the while, praying her mother would not appear on the door step and demand she come back inside.

As she slipped behind the wheel of her VW bug, she found herself wiping the tears from her eyes before turning the key in the ignition. The engine purred and the radio came on, the sounds of Michelle Branch's song, "Goodbye To You" drifting out of the speakers. Her heart constricted in her chest overhearing the lyrics to the track, and realizing the irony of the song to be playing at that moment. The tears continuing down her cheeks even as she pulled out of the driveway and pulled onto the road.

* * *

"How the hell did you get my number?"

It had been a tough enough day for Christian already. He could barely focus on anything at work, and his distant attitude hadn't gone unnoticed by Sean. Rather than explain the reason for his sudden change of behavior, he hadn't been in the chatting mood. More so, he wasn't in the mood to get a lecture from him for what he'd done to the abusive asshole back in Las Vegas. After all that happened, he would be happy never to lay eyes on the bastard or hear from him again, but unfortunetly, that no longer seemed like a possibility. He'd only been home for half an hour when his phone rang, and whom do you think was on the recieving end of the phone? None other than Frank Gellar. His first initial reaction had been to hang up on the man. However, he had a looming feeling that things were about to go from bad to worse.

"A friend of mine had some work done in Miami a few months ago. His surgery was done by a surgeon by the name of _Christian_ Troy. When I gave him your description, well you can't be _that_ stupid. He knew exactly who you were. And don't assume I wouldn't remember your name after my daughter practically screamed for you to come to her rescue."

He took in a breath to calm his rising temper, fixing his icy cold gaze on the large window across from him, almost as if the bastard were standing before him. "She's not _your_ daughter anymore asshole, and if you insist on harassing her with anymore phone calls or come anywhere near her again, the last phone call you make will be to your God damn lawyer to bail your ass out of jail!"

Frank laughed dryly, almost as if Christian's petty threats were nothing but a joke. "Keep talking, go right ahead, but while we're on the topic of lawyers, you might want to give yours a call because I have legal rights to sue you for everything your pathetic little business is worth. That assault you made is grounds for a lawsuit you son of a bitch."

He exhaled sharply, his blood boiling with each passing minute. He should have seen this coming. This was getting to be a regular pain in the ass for him. He and Sean had been threatened to be sued more times than he could count over the last couple of years, and there was only so much a person such as him could take before he snapped. "While we're on the topic of assault asshole, you might want to take a look at your own God damn abuse. Domestic violence is grounds for arrest in this and any other state. The abuse on _my _daughter is all the proof I need to make it known, and if you so much as try to file a lawsuit, the way I mangled your face is only going to look like self-defense."

"I told you before, she's _my_ fucking daughter, and there _are_ other ways to keep her away from you. In fact, by the time I'm through, you will never be allowed to see her again. Not even through plate-glass."

A huge lump formed in Christian's throat. What was the man getting at? Whatever it was, he didn't like the self-assured tone of his voice. He clenched his teeth together, sneering angrily into the phone. "If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you."

"Oh, I'm not going to do anything to her, but her mother will. Once she finds out that this strange man is a promiscuous plastic surgeon who spends his life sleeping with girls Amy's age and snorting cocaine, well Teresa will never let her leave the house again and you won't be allowed within a ten yard radius of her."

Christian's heart constricted in his chest, wondering how on earth this man had picked up on his lifestyle when he didn't even _know_ him. Something wasn't quite right. He couldn't figure out what it was, but before he could question how this bastard had obtained this information, he continued.

"I did my research. I would have thought an arrogant prick like you would figure that out."

Again with the crypticness. He had no clue where Frank obtained his source, but the only thing he could figure was that it had been by word of mouth. Was one of his past one night stands looking for revenge? The last woman who had taken her revenge out on him had been Kimber, but she wasn't the only woman holding a grudge against him. There were far too many possibilities. It could be Kimber, it could even be Gina, or it might just be some random girl he met at a bar. The thought of it only gave him a migraine. Aside from all of this, he knew one thing was for sure, he wasn't going to let a damn thing take his daughter away from him. Or vice versa. He sighed wearily, "all right, what the hell do you want from me? Money?"

"You broke my nose you son of a bitch! I'll call up Amy's mother right now and tell her what kind of man her daughter has been left alone with unless, you fix what you've done to my face. I want a new nose and I want a new face, and you're not going to charge me a fucking dime for it either. My surgery will be free, you got that?"

Christian scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Somehow, the man's demands didn't surprise him as much as he thought they would, but it didn't disgust him any less. "Is that all you want? A God damn nose job?"

"A nose job _and_ a new face. I've been meaning to get a face lift, and now that I've got you right where I want you, I can finally get what I want."

His temper began to get the best of him once again, which caused him to take another calming breath. He wanted to scream at the man. He wanted to call him a selfish, abusive and insensitive asshole and hang up on him without another word. However, there was more at stake here than just his career. Exhaling sharply, he found the nerve to utter the words, "fine, I'll give you your God damn surgery, but after that, you get the hell out of our lives, is that clear?"

"Amy is still my daughter. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you aren't going to keep me from making contact with her."

"Just try me asshole! You may think you know me, but not a damn thing is going to stop me from--"

"I'll come in for my consult in a few days, until then, this conversation is over."

Before Christian could speak another word, he was met with silence from the opposite end of the phone then a dial tone. The nerve of the asshole. Not only to hang up on him the way he did, but to blackmail him into getting want he wanted, and using Amy to do it. He was furious but he was also discouraged at the same time. He didn't regret what he'd done to the man, but he hated to feel outwitted by anyone. The odds were against him at the moment, and if he hadn't agreed to giving Frank the surgery, he knew that Amy would be taken away from him in a heartbeat. Even faster than Wilbur had. He swallowed the lump in his throat as tears began to well up in his eyes.

A sudden and audible knock sounded, yanking him out of his thoughts. Turning his head towards the sound, a weary sigh escaped him. He collected himself before finding the courage to rise to his feet, leaving the spot where he'd been seated on his bed. As he shuffled towards his front door, he prayed to God whoever it was wouldn't put an even greater damper on his night. Opening the door, he froze when he saw Amy standing there, but it wasn't her presence that made his heart constrict in his chest. It was the melancholy state she was in. Her cheeks were tear-stained, and even as she stared back at him, she looked to be on verge of crying all over again. The tears were already in her eyes and appeared to be ready to fall at any minute.

"Amy, what are you doing here sweetheart?" He asked gently. Stepping closer to her, he set a hand gently on her shoulder and gazed down at her intently, "what's wrong?" A million thoughts raced through his mind at that moment, dreading that her adoptive father had something to do with it, but at the same time, hoping that he was wrong.

The tears rolled down her cheeks as she sniffled softly. She shook her head. "I didn't have anywhere else to go. Can I..." She dropped her gaze down to the suitcase at her side, which he hadn't realized she had brought with her until now. "Do you think I could..." She shook her head once more, almost as if she were deciding against going any further with that sentence.

The fact of the matter was, she didn't _need_ to say anymore. He got the message loud and clear. It was yet another thing that connected them as father and daughter, this almost empathetic bond. He nodded his head in regard, speaking softly, "of course." Bringing one of his hands up, he brushed a few strands of hair out of her face before leaning in and kissing her forehead. "Please, come in." He took hold of her suitcase, offering to help her inside.

She sniffled deeply, trailing behind him and shutting the door behind her. "Are you sure its okay...if I stay here? I just don't want--"

Christian sighed in frustration, setting her suitcase down beside his couch and looking back up at her. "Sweetheart, please. I wouldn't have it any other way." He lowered himself down on the couch, watching her as she wiped the tears from her eyes and set her backpack down on one of the red leather chairs across from him. "Sit down and tell me what happened."

Amy wrapped her arms around herself, inching towards him before she finally sat down beside him. "I...got into a fight with my mom."

As much as he tried to remain calm, he couldn't stop his heart from pounding. He hesitated before uttering the words. "Did you tell her?"

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't." Exhaling sharply, she looked down at her lap. "She said that she got a call from my...well, you know. He told her what happened in Vegas, and she wanted to know who you were. I don't think he told her what your name was, but..." She raised her eyes back up to his anxious ones, "I accidentially let it slip out."

His heart pounded harder in his chest, turning his head away to stare off into space. "Jesus," he murmured.

"Not your whole name," she added quickly. "Just your first name. She doesn't know your last. I didn't let it get that far."

Her mother might not know about him, but if that asshole didn't keep his word, he'd sure be screwed later on. As tempted as he was to tell Amy about the call _he'd_ gotten, he knew that would only make matters worse, for both of them. This was his problem after all, not hers. He could already tell that she'd been through enough hell for one night, and he wasn't about to add anymore to the barrel. He turned his head back to her. "So if you didn't tell her the truth, what _did_ you tell her?"

"Just...that you were the father of one of my friends."

"And she actually bought that lie?"

She averted her gaze back down to her lap, clearly avoiding eye contact with him, but said not another word.

A frustrated sigh escaped Christian, turning his body so that he was facing her. He was becoming more pessimistic by the minute, which was somewhat out of character even for him. If Amy was his daughter, it was time she start being up front with him about these sorts of things, and more than anything, it was time he start acting like a real father. "Tell me. What did she say?"

Amy exuded a sigh of her own, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "She started to believe it, but then...she just..." She shook her head, leaning forward and placing her head in both of her hands. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."

His patience was wearing thin, and that was apparent. "She just what? I want to know what the hell she said. This doesn't just concern you sweetheart, it concerns me too."

She exhaled sharply, bringing her hands down and nodding her head. Looking over at him, she scowled. "I'm sorry. She could tell, that there was something going on between us that I wasn't telling her. She asked me if I was lying about having a friend named Kimberly, and I just got so fed up that I wanted to get out of there. I couldn't take anymore." She looked to be on the verge of crying again, but he could tell that she was holding back.

His brows furrowed inquisitively, the name striking a chord with him. "Back up, who's Kimberly?"

She seemed to freeze up at the question. "She's a friend I made up. I told my mom that you were the father of one of my friends so I just made up someone named Kimber--ly. Kimberly. She's not a real friend of mine. Just someone I made up."

Something wasn't right here. He could clearly sense there was more to the story than meets the eye. He'd noticed her little slip up when she spoke the name. It sounded more as if she were referring to _Kimber_ rather than Kimber_ly_, but how the hell did she know about Kimber anyway? His forehead wrinkled in thought, leaning a little closer to his daughter, and staring intently into her now anxious eyes. Almost if he were looking right through her. "Who are we really talking about here? Kimberly...or Kimber Henry?" His brows arched expectantly.

Amy stammered a reply. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. Kimber Henry? Who's Kimber Henry?"

"Don't play dumb with me sweetheart. Kimber used to be my girlfriend. What I'm wondering is why you'd think to bring _her_ into the conversation? I know we weren't talking about her, but we are now and I want to know why the hell you'd tell your mother that I was her father." His brows furrowed in bafflement, that migraine of his growing worse.

She grunted irritably with a roll of her eyes. "Look, when I said that you were her father, I wasn't talking about Kimber. Yes, I met her the last time I was at your office, but when I told my mom, I wasn't even referring to Kimber. I just said the first name that came into my mind." She shook her head, looking down at her feet. "Maybe I should just go and find someone else to stay with," she muttered.

Christian sighed wearily, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're being far too dramatic. I never suggested you go anywhere. I was only asking because I thought Kimber might have something to do with this little argument with your mother. I didn't realize you two had already met."

Amy took a breath before meeting his gaze once again, tears now streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled softly, nodding her head lightly. "We first met at your office, and then we ran into each other at the mall a couple days ago."

"Have you and Kimber become friends?"

She shrugged lightly, "I don't know if you could really call us friends. I mean, I don't really...know much about her, except that she used to be your girlfriend. That's the only time we hung out though. Why?"

He shook his head. "No reason. It's just that sometimes Kimber tends to get a little...attached. I'm not about to tell you who you can and can't be friends with sweetheart, but she isn't exactly a suitable role model for someone such as yourself."

She seemed to tense up at his words, and averted her eyes to something else in the room besides his face. "Um...why do you say that?"

He exuded a soft sigh. "She's done things in the past, things that I want my daughter to be no part of." He noticed the way in which she seemed to disregard his words, which only caused him to continue on, "look, all I'm saying is that if you insist on hanging around her, don't let her corrupt your better judgement. She's a train wreck, and the last thing I'd want is for you to turn into some God damn porn star with a coke addiction."

She was quiet for a long moment before finally uttering a reply. "I get it." She leaned back on the couch, sighing woefully and staring up at the ceiling, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts. "Could we please...not talk about this anymore?"

Christian could sense that something he'd said had struck a nerve with her, but he couldn't figure out what. Rather than question it as he might normally have done, he decided he'd let it go for now. He suspected that if he pressed her anymore, he might end up driving her over the edge again and if he did that, he could wind up pushing her away from him entirely. "Sure. Have you eaten anything? I could order out some Chinese for us."

She turned her head to look over at him, a woeful expression on her face. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. There was a slight hesitation before she spoke. "Okay, I guess."

"Unless you're really not that hungry, in which case, I'll just whip something up for myself." He could tell by the hesitancy in her voice that she most likely wasn't. That was fine by him. If he had been in a better mood, he probably would have suggested they go out to eat, but at the moment, he didn't really feel like going anywhere, except to pick up some Chinese and come straight home.

Amy shook her head with a clear of her throat. "No, we could do that. I didn't eat much for dinner anyway, and my mom isn't exactly the best cook. Compared to the chinese food around here, her food tastes like shit."

He chuckled at those last words. It was amusing to hear, seeing as how he would have said something similiar if he were in her position. "All right." He leaned in and gave her forehead a paternal kiss before rising to his feet, prepared to grab his keys and head to the door. "Do you mind staying here while I go out and pick it up? I shouldn't be gone long, but if you'd rather--"

She looked up at him with a shake of her head. "I don't mind. I mean, if it's okay with you, I'll stay here by myself."

The thought occured to him that she might end up snooping around in his personal belongings, and perhaps stumble upon his closet porn collection or something else of that nature, but he didn't think too much of it. She'd probably picked up on his lewd bachelor status before as it is. "Of course it is sweetheart, that's why I asked you." He rounded the couch and strolled towards the door, but paused mid-step and looked down at her once again. "I shouldn't be gone any longer than a half an hour, maybe fourty five minutes, but if for any reason there is an emergency or you need to get a hold of me, call my cell."

She nodded in regard. "I got it."

Leaning down, he gave the top of her head a kiss before continuing towards the door. "I'll be right back." He slipped his black suit jacket on, stealing a glance over at her, "feel free to make yourself at home."

"Thanks."

Stepping out into the hallway, he locked the door behind him. Not that he suspected anyone would break in while he was gone for such a short time, but after one of the first victums of The Carver had come to McNamara/Troy, he wasn't taking any chances.


	26. Appalling Revelations

Amy debated whether or not to start unpacking her things. Even though Christian had given her a tour of his condo in the past, she'd taken the liberty of exploring the length of it herself and hadn't found another bedroom besides his own, which meant she'd probably have to sleep on the couch and keep her things either in his closet or in her suitcase. Coming to Christian had been her first choice, but had he turned her away, she'd probably end up going to Courtney's house, even if she really didn't want to. Her "friend" would probably be too busy with Matt to even care about someone else's issues. She'd probably make up some excuse as to why Amy couldn't be there.

Just as Amy was about to contemplate the possible excuses Courtney would make, a knock sounded on Christian's door. Averting her attention away from the flat screen television across from her, her brows furrowed inquisitively, wondering who it could be. This wasn't exactly her residence so she was hesitant about whether or not she should answer it. Christian had only been gone ten minutes so she didn't think he'd be back that soon, but maybe he had forgotten something and come back to retrieve it. Despite her hesitation, she pushed up from where she'd been stretched out on the couch and headed towards the door.

On her tip-toes, she peered into the peep-hole. She was half-surprised and half-disappointed to see Matt McNamara standing on the opposite side. A soft sigh escaped her as she went on to open the door. From the look on his face, he looked to be somewhat surprised to see her too, but that was a given, considering he probably didn't know Christian was even her father.

"Matt. Hi."

"Uh, hey Amy. What uh--I'm looking for Christian." Matt cocked his head to see further inside the condo. "Is he here?"

She blinked, somewhat baffled. He sounded as if he had started to say something else, but decided against it. He was most likely wondering what she of all people was doing there at Christian's place, but she was hoping he wouldn't think to ask. "Um, no. He's not. He went out to get some Chinese. What are you doing here?" She cringed at how nosy she probably sounded, and quickly corrected herself. "Sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound nosy."

Matt shook his head. "Nah, it's cool. I just came by to talk to him about something."

She nodded her head in understanding. Although she was somewhat curious about what exactly Matt wanted to talk to her father about, she knew that if she inquired, that would be prying even more.

An awkward silence passed between them.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but Matt looked as if he were holding back in saying something, but she couldn't figure out what. His fidgety movements spoke volumes. Her brows furrowed inquisitively, "what?"

Matt avoided eye contact with her for a brief moment, averting his gaze to the floor. He shifted on his feet, bringing the index finger of his right hand up to his lip before finally looking up at her. "Courtney told me."

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest at those words. "She told you _what_?" As if she didn't already know. She had a looming feeling of dread as to what this was leading up to.

"She told me that Christian is your dad."

Amy's jaw hung open in astonishment. "She what?" That was the most appauling thing she'd ever heard. The nerve of Courtney, her best friend, to go and do something such as betray her trust. She exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing incriminatingly. "Why would she _do _that? She told me she wouldn't tell _anyone_. Why the hell would she tell you?" She didn't realize how audible her voice was at the moment, but to be honest, she didn't really care. Her pride was wounded.

"Look, it just happened! I thought she was cheating on me. She started talking to my dad about him. How the hell was I suppose to know what was going on? That's why I asked her about it."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "You thought she was cheating on you with _Christian_?" The thought of her own friend dating her father sickened her. It just wasn't feasible, but knowing how weak Courtney was for any guy who came strutting her way, she wouldn't put it past her. "Oh no, if she _ever_..." Her voice trailed off.

"She's not. I wouldn't have even bothered coming here tonight if she was." He sighed wearily. "Look, I really don't want to be put in the middle of this, but Christian is practically my uncle, and I think I have a right to know about something like this, don't you?"

A deep sigh escaped her, crossing her arms over her chest. Gently, she nodded her head. "I guess. I just never realized how close you were. I only met your dad once, but I just thought he was Christian's business partner."

"He and my dad are best friends. They've been best friends ever since I was born. I guess he failed to mention that." He stole a glance down the broad hallway, "look, I can tell this is probably a bad time. Just tell Christian I stopped by, all right?"

She was a little bewildered as to why Matt wanted to get going so soon, but she had to admit, she really didn't know what more there was to say to him. "Okay, well I guess I'll see you later then?" Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Now realizing how close Matt was with her father, she had to admit things were definitely more awkward now than when she'd first met him, and she didn't know exactly how she would be able to handle that.

Matt shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, nodding his head in regard. "Yeah. I'll see ya later." Before she could utter another word, he turned on his heels and headed off down the broad hallway.

Amy watched him depart before shutting the door. She shook her in disbelief as she marched back into the living room. Now, more than ever, she wondered why she even bothered with Courtney anymore, but one thing was for sure, she wasn't going to let this go without confronting her about it. Plopping back down on the couch, she stole a glance at her watch, realizing that it would probably be about another fifteen or twenty minutes until Christian got back with their dinner. She was tempted to call Kimber to get her mind off things, but she didn't really want to be talking to Kimber and have Christian walk in the door. It was difficult enough keeping the coke event away from him, especially now that he'd told her how much he didn't like it, but Kimber had also managed to help her at the time. She couldn't deny herself of that.

Intent on going right back to the reality show she was watching, she got comfortabe just as her celluar started ringing. An irritable sigh escaped her, praying to God that it wasn't her mother calling to bitch at her anymore. She didn't think she'd be able to deal with anymore for the night, and if she had to, she'd lose her mind completely. With a grunt, she sat up and reached into the front pocket of her backpack, fishing out the device. Noticing the caller ID on the phone, her first instinct was not to answer at all, but it was time she take matters into her own hands. Once and for all. Flipping it open, she hesitated before answering it.

"Why didn't you just tell the whole fucking world who Christian was?"

It took the other person a moment to utter a reply. "W-what? What the heck are you talking about?"

"Oh don't play dumb with me Courtney! I know that you told Matt who Christian is."

There was a long pause on the other line before Courtney spoke. "Girl, I am soo sorry, but it just happened. I had to tell him. There was no way out of it at the time. How did you find out anyway? When did he tell you?"

"He just came over right now."

"Came over? But he doesn't even know where you live. I never told him that."

She cringed, being too angry with her friend to notice her little slip-up. Then again, it had been a night filled with slip-ups. Things that she had never anticipated would come out into the open, and unfortunetly, the drama just kept on coming. She tried to think of some sort of way to cover this one up but it was pretty useless. She rolled her eyes, leaning back on the couch with a sigh. "Forget it."

"No. How in the heck could he have come over and told you? He doesn't even know your address! Girl, what the hell is going on?"

"Nothing! I just thought that we could keep this between you and me, and then you go and tell _him_ about it."

"Well I had to! I couldn't let him think I was cheating on him, especially with a guy I haven't even _met_. Look girl, I really had no other choice, but I swear, I wouldn't have told him if he hadn't accused me of cheating. I'm so sorry. I swear, I couldn't be more sorry. Look, I really don't want this to screw up our friendship because you know that you mean a lot to me, and you know I would _never _intentionally stab you in the back like that. Can you forgive me?"

For a long moment, Amy debated whether or not to forgive her. She didn't know if she could, but now that she thought about, Matt probably would have found out anyway. If not from Courtney than probably from his dad or Christian himself. So maybe she couldn't be mad at her for this. "I guess, but are we even friends anymore? You never spend any time with me anymore. You spend all your time with Matt now."

"Well, no offense or anything girl, but you've been spending all _your_ time with Christian, so this isn't just one sided, you know?"

Her jaw dropped, but she held back the scoff that wanted to escape her. She didn't know why people said things like "no offense," even when they were just about to offend you anyway. However, even _she _was guilty of that sometimes too. Before she could speak another word, Courtney went on.

"I promise we'll finally have time to spend together soon, just us girls. Just don't go hating Matt because of me, okay? He really wants to be friends with you."

"Why would I hate Matt?"

"I thought you might be pissed at him because I was spending all my time with him, you know, instead of you."

"Well maybe a little, but if he's practically going to be my cousin, I guess I should be friends with him, right? I'm sure Christian will want me to. He sure isn't going to be happy with me if I _hate_ Matt, considering how close they are."

"Good, because I'd hate for my best friend and my boyfriend to hate each other. So you forgive me, right? I mean, we're still friends, aren't we?"

A weary sigh escaped her. "Yeah, we're still friends. I just didn't want to have yet _another_ friend stab me in the back. It's happened too many times in the past, and if it happens one more time, I think I'll scream."

"I would never do that to you girl, never. You're my partner-in-crime. We're soul sisters till the end."

A light laugh escaped her. "Yeah, I guess we are." _At least I hope so._

"So how was Vegas with Christian?"

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "How did you know I went to Vegas with Christian?"

"He told me. I called you when you were on your way there, but you must have been sleeping or something because Christian answered your phone."

"He answered _my_ phone?"

"Yeah. Look, I know he's your dad and all, but do you think its weird that I'm already attracted to him by the sound of his voice?"

Amy opened her mouth to reply when she heard a key turning into a lock, a click, a then a door opening, followed shortly by the sound of Christian's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm home."

She cringed at how audible his voice was, knowing that Courtney had probably heard him. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Christian heading in her direction, carrying a white plastic bag in his right hand.

"Oh my God, was that him? Are you at his _house_?" Courtney inquired.

Amy held a finger up, in a motion that told Christian to wait a minute. He nodded his head in regard before walking past the couch into the dining area. She watched him as he set the bag on the glass dining table a few feet away from her. "Uh, yeah, I am. Look, we really shouldn't get into this right now." She turned her head away and lowered her voice to a whisper, "especially with _him_ nearby, so I gotta go. Bye." Before her friend could say anymore, she ended the call, closed up her celluar and returned it to her backpack. She looked over at Christian who was setting out the cartons of Chinese food on the table. "Sorry."

He stole a glance over at her. "Dare I ask who you were talking to?" He paused in what he was doing, staring at her intently as his gaze seemed to turn cold. "It wasn't that asshole again, was it?"

She shook her head, his gaze making her a bit anxious. "No. It wasn't, thank God. It was Courtney." Grabbing the remote, she shut off the television before rising to her feet and walking over to the dining table.

Christian sighed softly and nodded his head, a smug smile spreading across his face. "Courtney, of course. How is this 'friend' of yours that, need I remind you, I have yet to meet?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, tilting her head to one side. She placed her hands on her hips. "Well, you guys have already met, at least in the talking sense. She told me you talked to her that day we flew to Vegas."

His smug smile transformed into a sheepish smirk, just before he turned on his heels and headed into the kitchen. "Did she? Well, we haven't formally met so that's as good as I could get. If you ask me, she was quite a pleasure to speak to on the phone, certainly not afraid to be so coy. I like her already." He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer before looking over at her, "what would you like to drink sweetheart?"

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Christian's own brows furrowed, but out of bafflement. "What do you think it means? I just wanted to know what you plan on drinking with your dinner."

She brought one of her hands up to the side of her head, a migraine already taking form. Exhaling sharply, she shook her head. "No, not that. I meant, what did you mean by what you said about Courtney? You _do _know that she's my friend, right?"

He shut the refrigerator door and stared at her with the same baffled look, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Of course, but why are you asking? All I'm saying is that I like your friend, I don't know what the hell you thought I meant."

Amy shook her head, deciding that she shouldn't go any further, as tempted as she was to ask what sense of the word he "liked" her friend. She was probably just being paranoid, and the last thing she wanted was for them to get into an argument. If he kicked her out of his condo for that reason, she'd never forgive herself and then she'd be screwed with no place to stay. "Nevermind, forget it. I'm just making a big deal out of nothing." She pulled out one of the chairs and sat down at the table, looking back over at him. "I'll have a soda. Whatever you have." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

Christian hesitated before sighing and opening the fridge once again, grabbing a Cherry Coke from the top shelf and walking back to the table. He set both his beer and her soda down before turning back around. Entering the kitchen once again, he opened one of his cupboards and took out two clean plates, and few utensils from a drawer. He returned to the table, setting the items down, and pulling out his own chair to sit down. "Is there something you're not telling me, sweetheart? Whatever it is, I think I have a right to know."

She shook her head once again before popping the tab on her can of soda. "I swear, it's nothing. I was just being paranoid. Really, forget about it."

He exhaled sharply, but looked as if he was going to drop the subject entirely which was a relief. "If you say so." He twisted the cap off his beer before taking a swig. Grabbing one of the plates, he set it before him before taking a carton of the food and serving himself some rice, moving on to the other entrees shortly after.

Amy went on and did the same, serving herself a few pieces of orange chicken, fried rice, chow mein, and shrimp. Neither one of them spoke another word until they began eating, but even then, it was her who spoke up first. Setting her fork down, she sat back in her seat, looking over at him. "Look, I know that you said it was okay that I stay here and everything, and I really appreciate it for as long as you'll let me, but I wish I had a place of my own. My mom is so overprotective and she thinks that I can't face the real world. Especially when I'm almost an adult. I'd love to prove her wrong, but you know..." Her shoulders rose and fell with a shrug, picking up her fork once again and shoving it into a piece of orange chicken, her gaze averted to her meal. "I don't have a job or anything so I could never pay for rent anywhere."

Christian finished chewing what was in his mouth and swallowed before speaking. "Well, I might be able to help you out with that sweetheart." A soft smile crossed his face.

Her brows arched in surprise. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Oh God, she hoped so. "What do you mean? Are you saying..." Her brows stitched together inquisitively, "what _are_ you saying?"

"I'm saying, if it's a job you're looking for, Sean and I could always use some extra help around the office. Maybe I could get you a job working at Troy/McNamara." He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "Trust me, the salary would be ten times better than the money you'd get in a minimum wage job."

Blinking back her astoundment, a look of uneasiness appeared on her face. "Uh...work with my father?"

"Why not? I wouldn't be treating you any different than the rest of my co-workers, and you wouldn't have to worry about kissing anyone's ass, especially not mine. I hardly doubt Sean would have a problem with you, seeing as how you've already met him and you _are _my daughter."

She chewed on her bottom lip apprehensively. "As tempted as it is, I really don't think I'd be so comfortable with that...at least not right now, but I'll think about it." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Maybe in the future."

Christian paused before gradually nodding his head. Grabbing his beer, he raised it up in regard. "Well, the offer is on the table. If you change your mind, just let me know." She nodded her head, going back to her meal. He took another swig of his beer before continuing. "You know, if it's an apartment you want, I might be able to pull a few strings and buy you one myself. The least I could do is help you pay your rent, until you've gotten yourself a steady job."

Her jaw hung open in astonishment. "Are you kidding me? You'd actually buy me my own apartment?" She shook her head. "I couldn't ask you to do that." While she might have said those words, she was secretly hoping he would. After all, he made thousands of dollars every year. Why wouldn't he have enough money to buy her her own place?

He set his beer down on the table, leaning a little closer to her and taking her hand in his with a squeeze. "When are you going to learn sweetheart? You're my daughter. You shouldn't be afraid to ask me for anything. I am your father, the least I can do is support you." He sighed softly, turning his attention back to his meal. "After all, you can't very well stay in hell house forever now can you? Your mother has to learn to let you go sooner or later. We both know that you'll be an adult soon. Come to think of it, you never did tell me your birthday and if it was on your birth certificate, it must have slipped my mind. When is it again?"

"September. September nineteeth, nineteen eighty five."

"Then it shouldn't be long until you turn twenty. You're nineteen. That makes you a consenting adult. If you ask me, you deserve a little freedom, and if your mother can't see that, she shouldn't even be calling herself your mother. I'm just glad you finally got the hell out of there. I probably would have done the same." He picked up his fork and shoved a piece of madrin chicken into his mouth.

"Like father like daughter," a soft smile crossed her face as she took up her can of soda and took a sip.

Christian smirked. "Exactly."

"You're right though. I don't see why I should have to stay there anymore anyway. I mean, I'm old enough to make my own decisions, I even told her. At least _you_ treat me like an adult. She treats me like I'm twelve." She shook her head in disbelief, setting her soda back down and shoving her fork into another piece of orange chicken. "So you're really going to buy me my own place?"

He sighed softly. "How many times do I have to tell you? Yes! If it'll help get your mother off your back for a while, I'll do whatever I can to help. Not to mention, it'll be a lot easier for me to see you." A smug smile crossed his face before he took another swig of his beer.

She was tempted to reach out and give him a hug, but she knew that right now might not be the most appropriate time for it. Instead, she swallowed what was in her mouth and smiled brightly. Never in her life had she met a man or even had a father who spoiled her as much as Christian was obviously doing, and spoiling her with good reason as well. "Thank you. Really, you don't know how much this would mean to me."

"My pleasure."

For the remainder of their meal, neither one of them spoke much to the other. There really wasn't anything to talk about anyway. Amy tried to think of some topics to throw out, but she didn't know if they would interest him. She was hoping that her lack of conversation hadn't given Christian the indication that she was ignoring him. However, from the look of it, he didn't seem to mind that she wasn't talking. Whether he was doing it intentionally because of the earlier events of the night and giving her some space, or for the same reasons of not having anything relevant to talk about, she didn't make too big a deal out of it.

However, one thing she wasn't expecting him to make a big deal out of was sleeping arrangements. She hadn't even given it much thought herself until eleven o' clock rolled around. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and got dressed for bed. When she stepped out of his bathroom, she saw him stretched out on his bed watching TV, one arm tucked beneath his head and the remote in his hand. He didn't look ready for bed though. Although he was rid of his suit jacket and shoes, he still had on the same clothes he had had on earlier. To be honest, he looked rather bored, and he also he looked to be lost in his own thoughts. There was no mistaking that he wasn't paying much attention to the television across from him. Deciding to just leave him be, she began walking back towards the living room.

"Going to bed already sweetheart?"

She stopped in her tracks and turned on her heels to look over at him. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "No, just getting ready is all. If it's okay, I'm just going to watch TV for maybe like two more hours and then go to bed. I don't usually go to bed until two or three in the morning anyway."

Christian's brows arched, a smirk crossing his face before he shook his head. "Ah, yet another trait that makes you my daughter. We're both insomniacs."

She laughed lightly, nodding her head. "Yeah, I guess we are." She had to admit that she hadn't picked up on that bit of information beforehand, but she knew enough about his lifestyle and didn't think she wanted to know anymore. Pivoting on her heels, she was prepared to be on her way but she turned back when he spoke once again.

He pushed himself up to a seated position. "You're not planning on sleeping on the couch tonight, are you sweetheart?"

Her brows furrowed in bafflement. Where else would she sleep? Surely he didn't mean what she thought he meant. "Well..." She dropped her gaze to her sock covered feet, "you only have one bedroom so there's really no other place for me sleep."

There was an awkward silence between them, and for a moment, she was dreading that he might suggest she go back home or stay at a hotel for the night. Then.

"You can sleep in my bed, tonight I'll take the couch."

She raised her eyes back up to his, shaking her head. "No. No, I couldn't do that." She cringed, realizing what he'd said to her earlier that night about asking for things. "What I mean is, I can't kick you out of your own bed. It wouldn't be right."

He shook his head. "I insist. Honestly, I don't mind. Tonight you can sleep in here, and tomorrow, we'll go apartment hunting. We can decide what happens from there."

She respected the fact that he didn't suggest both of them sleep in the same bed, even though the bed was three times her size. That would have been far too weird for her, and waking up right beside her father would be twice as creepy. She shook her head. "No, really. It's ok, I can sleep on the couch. Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine on the couch. I swear, it's ok."

Christian sighed wearily but nodded his head. "If that's the way you want it sweetheart."

She nodded her head. "I do."


	27. The Truth Is Out There, And It Hurts

Christian's black Porsche pulled up in front of Amy's residence. He put the vehicle in park and shut off the engine with a deep sigh. Turning his head, he looked intently at the anxious girl on the opposite side of the car. "Are you sure you don't want me to come in?"

Amy took in a deep breath, trying mercilessly to calm her pounding heart. She met his gaze, gently shaking her head. "No. No, this is something that I have to do on my own. I'm just..." She exhaled sharply, "I can do this by myself. I'll be fine." Bringing one of her hands up, she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Although she had said the words, she wasn't so sure that she would be able to hold herself together. She didn't even want to be there as it was, but she knew she would have to come and get the rest of her stuff sooner or later.

Earlier that day, she and Christian had gone apartment hunting around her area of town, but Amy hadn't found anything she liked. They had toured a few apartment complexes, and even a couple more near the McNamara/Troy offices, but she consistently found them to be lacking something or other. They were either too big or not big enough. She also nit-picked about the layout of the apartment, the amenities, and even the location. Nothing seemed to interest her, and by about the third trip they'd made, she could tell that her lack of decisiveness was slightly irritating Christian in the process. To be honest, she never thought she'd get the chance to move-out, and now that she had, it was up to her to decide on a suitable residence for a nineteen year old.

Once they had made the final trip out to a high-priced, eighteen-floor complex a few miles away from McNamara/Troy, she came to a conclusion and decided what she really wanted most of all. She wanted to be closer to him. Christian didn't have a problem with it. In fact, he agreed that it was a good idea. Unfortunetly, the only way to get her an apartment in his building was to pull some strings. Amy was hesitant about the idea, but Christian insisted that she allow him to negotiate with his neighbors. The short, pudgy, nearly bald, and recently divorced man that lived in the apartment on his left wouldn't hear of moving out, but with a few cautious and clever choice of words, he convinced the man to see otherwise in the only way he could. Offering him plastic surgery...pro bono.

Amy would need to stay at Christian's for at least another few days, giving his neighbor enough time to pack up his things and move-out. Although she had packed up a lot of stuff from home before she'd arrived the night before, it would only last her so long and if she was going to move-out of her house for good, she'd need the rest of her stuff. That was the reason why Christian had brought her back to her mother's house.

It took all of the strength inside her to exit his car and start up towards the front door, cardboard boxes of various sizes clutched under her left arm. A chill danced down her spine as the cold night air swept over her petite frame. The wind howled through the leaves of the oak trees surrounding the large cream-colored villa. Only a few feet away from the front door, her feet came to a halt. She didn't have such a good feeling about this anymore. She turned back around, prepared to return to Christian when she noticed he was still watching her. Noticing the expectant way he arched his brows, she knew it was too late to back out now. Giving him a nod of regard, she took in a deep and calming breath before turning back around, turning her key into the keyhole to unlock the door and stepping inside the house.

An allieviated sigh escaped her, realizing that neither her mother nor Chris was downstairs when she entered. For a minute, she thought she had the whole house to herself, but then she realized that her mother's car had still been in the driveway and Chris' wasn't. The thought occured to her that maybe her mother had gone somewhere with Chris in his car. As she climbed the stairs up to the second floor, all hope died away when she heard the television echoing down the hall. _Shit. _Exhaling sharply, she crept towards her bedroom. Maybe if she was as quiet as a mouse, her mother wouldn't know she'd even been there. She stole a glance in the direction of her mother's bedroom, swallowing the huge lump in her throat when she noticed the woman was laying on her bed watching television. Amy wondered if she could pass by quick enough so that Teresa wouldn't notice. Saying a silent prayer in her head, she crept by, keeping her eyes on the woman for the five seconds it took to pass by.

Not waiting to hear if her mother noticed her, she slipped quietly inside her bedroom, closing the door behind her, but not entirely. She closed the door just enough for it to touch the doorframe, but not actually be open. A soft sigh escaped her, scurrying towards her bed and placing the boxes down on it. Reaching down, she turned on the small lamp beside her bed before beginning to pack up more of her things. She pulled open each one of her dresser drawers, gradually emptying them out and placing her clothes inside the open boxes on her bed. Once that was done, she had used up two and a half boxes already. She didn't know how she was going to get all this stuff out to Christian's car on her own. Suddenly she was wishing she had let him come in with her afterall. However, she couldn't run the risk that her mother would see him and demand to know the truth.

She crossed the room to her walk-in closet, opening the door and stepping inside. Not bothering to take the hangers off the clothes, she gathered them up into her arms and dropped them onto her bed, cringing when the hangers made an audible clatter against the cardboard boxes she'd set down. "Shit," she murmured to herself. Her muscles tensed up, her eyes shifting towards her closed door and praying that she hadn't blown her cover. She listened for a moment, waiting to hear her mother call out to her.

Nothing.

All she heard was the faint sound of the television from across the hall. She began working quietly but quickly as she rid the clothes of the hangers and placed them into the already half-full box. Opening up another box, she moved back to her chest of drawers and began gathering up her knick-knacks, cosmetics, a few stuffed animals, and picture frames, among other things. She placed them down in the box as quietly as she could, but it didn't seem to be working. Everytime she put something new inside of the box, the objects would clatter together.

"Amy? Amy, are you in there?"

She cringed at the sound of her mother's voice. No, this couldn't be happening. No! It had to be entirely in her mind. She was hearing things. She hadn't actually been so careless as to alert the woman that she was here. The moment she saw the door open, her hopes of making a quick escape shattered.

Teresa's brows arched in surprise, a warm smile crossing her face. "You came back. I knew you'd come to your senses sooner..." The woman's voice trailed off as she noticed the array of boxes on her daughter's bed. Her gaze instantly turned cold, planting her hands firmly on her hips. Her brows furrowing inquisitively, stepping further into the room and towards the bed. "What are you doing? Why are there boxes on your bed? Where do you think you're going?" She looked intently at Amy, waiting for an answer.

Amy sighed wearily, returning her mother's cold gaze. "Mom, I have nothing to say to you. I didn't come back so that you could give me the third degree again. I told you I was leaving and I am. I just came back to get the rest of my stuff." She finished placing the rest of her things in the box. Stepping towards her CD tower, she retrieved the rest of her CDs and placed them cautiously into the same box.

"And just where are you going to stay? Do you think this Kimberly friend of yours is going to just let you move-in with her? Amy, you are still my daughter, and I will not authorize you to move-in with someone until I say otherwise. I haven't even met this Kimberly friend of yours or her father! Do you really think I'm going to let you go off with people I don't even know? Do you!"

She felt her emotions rising to the surface, but she would not allow them to take over. Not again. She wasn't going to appear vunerable to her mother. That would only mean that she had won. As Christian had said, she was already an adult and fully capable of starting a new life somewhere else. She had to be strong, and she had to be mature about this situation. Despite how difficult it had been to leave the night before, she had to stand her ground and show her mother that she was no longer in control of her. After all, she wasn't really her mother to begin with. Instead of replying to her mother, she simply went about the task at hand and continued packing up her stuff.

"Damn it Amy, answer me!"

Amy shook her head in disbelief, tossing a few teddy bears into a box and then grabbing a few throw pillows to add to it. "I don't want to talk about this anymore! I'm moving-out, okay? I'm old enough to make my own decisions now. God! You'd think after last night, you would have thought about what I'd said and come to realize that I'm not a little kid anymore!" As much as she tried to hold it together, a single tear still managed to escape the corner of her eye.

"You may not be a little kid anymore, but you don't have the money to support yourself. You don't even have a job Amy! Who's going to support you now, huh? That Christian man? You aren't even his daughter. Do you really think he's going to put out the money to support you?"

She froze at the words "you aren't even his daughter." Just as it had the previous night, she found her heart constricting in her chest. As much of a fact as the words were, they felt like a stab to the heart coming from her mother.

If only she knew.

She sighed woefully, bringing one of her hands up to brush away the tear that had rolled down her cheek. Whirling around on her heels, she crossed her arms firmly over her chest, fixing her eyes on her mother. She didn't know what compelled her to do it, but suddenly, the words came spilling out of her mouth. "Yeah, believe or not, he will, and I _am_ going to get a job. He's going to get me one. He's going to support me, he's going to buy me my own place, and he's going to love me the way a real parent should love their daughter. Believe or not, he's going to do a lot for me because that's how much he loves me."

For a long moment, Teresa didn't say a word. Then, Amy noticed that her large brown eyes were beginning to well up in tears. "And how can you be so sure that he's going to do all this for you? Has he told you this or are you just assuming he will?"

Amy exhaled sharply with a groan. "Ugh! Mom! Are you even listening to anything I say? No, wait, I forgot, you never listen. He loves me, and yes, he told me all this! Why the hell do you think I'm here packing up my shit? He already found me a place to live and I'm moving-in." She turned away from her mother, suddenly feeling a bit of guilt weighing on her shoulders when she saw the tears in Teresa's eyes. After retrieving the rest of her books from her bookshelf, and her cordless phone from her nightstand, she loaded the items inside the last box and stared at the boxes full of her belongings that sat on her bed. There was no way she was going to get all five of these boxes out to Christian's car on her own, and she didn't have any faith that her mother would help her in doing so.

Teresa shook her head firmly as Amy grabbed one of the heavier boxes and struggled to lift it. "Oh no! No, no, no, no! You are not moving anywhere until I meet this man. I want to meet him Amy! Do you hear me? I don't care what you have to do to get a hold of Kimberly, but I'm not letting you leave this house again until it happens."

_Oh God, not this again. _Amy thought to herself with an irritable sigh. Giving up on lifting the heavier box, she picked up the box full of her knick-knacks, CDs, and DVDs and strode towards her door. Once again, her mother took it upon herself to block her path and looked to be planting herself there with no intention of moving. Amy clenched her teeth together, glaring coldly at her mother. "Mom! Get the hell out of my way!"

"No!"

"This is my fucking room and it's still my house! I can go wherever the fuck I want! Get out of my way!" Amy screamed, so loud that she was sure Christian would hear it.

"Well if it's still your house then why are you so anxious to move out of it?"

With a furious growl, she manuevered her way past her mother, bumping her out of the way with her hip and struggling with the doorknob. Balancing the box on her hip for a minute and holding it with one arm, she got the door open and scurried out of the room before her mother could stop her. She ignored Teresa's demands for her to come back as she descended the stairs to the ground floor. Once again, she used the same manuever to get the front door open. She stole a glance back at her mother to see the woman dashing after her. Luckily, her mother was only half-way down the stairs when she stepped out into the evening breeze, and strode down the front walk. She noticed that the tinted windows on Christian's car were raised so she couldn't see him, but she didn't have to be telepathic to sense he was watching her even as she stepped out of the house.

"Amy!" Her mother shouted after her. The woman reached the front door, immediately stepping out after her. "Amy! Get over here, right now!"

Amy rolled her eyes at her mother's words. Her heart pounded in her chest. Upon hearing her mother's voice break through the night, she sensed she was already outside. She whirled back around in the woman's direction, her eyes growing wide in horror. "Mom! Leave me alone! Go away!" She couldn't allow her to get close to the car. If she realized who was in it, there would be no other choice but to tell her the truth.

"I will not go away!" Teresa stomped down the front walk, getting closer and closer to Amy, and in turn, _closer_ to Christian's car. "Come back inside!"

"Mom!" Amy screamed. "Go. Back. Inside! Leave me the hell alone!"

Suddenly, before either of them knew what was happening, the driver's side door on the black Porsche opened, and Christian appeared to Amy's astonishment. _Oh God...what is he doing? _Her eyes grew wide once again. At this point, her heart was beating so hard in her chest, she found herself involuntarily wavering on her heels, fearing she may faint. The box she was holding nearly slipped out of her grasp in the process. She would have dropped it entirely if she hadn't caught it with her knee.

"Who are _you_?" Teresa demanded, approaching her daughter's side. Her eyes shifted from a determined-looking Christian to an anxious Amy, "who is this?"

Amy exchanged a look with him as he came towards them. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Amy shook her head stiffly in debate.

"Amy?" The woman's eyes shifted between her and Christian, her brows furrowed inquisitively. Her gaze fixated on the man before her, posing the same question but with more intent on her voice, "who are you?"

Christian looked from Amy to Teresa and then back to Amy, his expression turning firm, and almost paternal. He arched his brows at her expectantly. She could sense what he wanted her to do, but the truth of the matter was...she didn't think she had the courage to utter the words. Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, she sighed deeply.

The tension between the three of them only escalated with each passing second.

A chill danced down Amy's spine. She couldn't fathom if it was from the chill in the evening air or from the fear and tension that loomed over her.

"Amy? Is this..." Her mother's voice trailed off.

Amy exchanged another look with Christian, both of them knowing that one of them had to say something and fast. After a brief hesitation, and much to Amy's surprise, Christian broke the silence that had accumulated between them.

"Christian Troy."

_Oh thank you God. _Amy exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. He extended his hand to her mother, but just when she thought she was home free, she noticed the cordial smile on his face disappear and his expression change.

"Amy's father. Her _biological _father."

Suddenly, all her hopes had been shattered in a heartbeat. She winced, a woeful sigh escaping her. Her stomach turned, and suddenly, she felt as though she might vomit. She knew it had to be said sooner or later, but she never thought that Christian of all people would be the one to utter the words. From the look in his eyes a moment ago, she was certain that he wanted the opposite. Slowly, she raised her eyes back up to Christian, expecting to see some kind of expression on his face, but his face was blank. No expression at all, but perhaps a hint of determination in his eyes. She didn't need to look at her mother to see the dumb founded look on her face.

For a long moment, her mother said nothing. Almost letting his words sink in. Finally, at long last, the woman spoke.

"You're...what?" Teresa's eyes shifted towards her daughter. "Amy...what is this man talking about?"

Amy noticed her mother looking to her for an answer, to which she turned her head away, not wanting to make eye contact or even look at her anymore. She knew that doing so would only guilt her into thinking she was the victum here. She wasn't, and she wouldn't dare let her mother drag her down anymore than she already had. As much as she tried to supress them, she felt the tears start to well up in her eyes all over again. She wouldn't lose it. Not again. Not now.

She mustered up some sort of reply, but it ended up coming out in a whimper. "It's true." A single tear rolled down her cheek as the words left her mouth.

"He's not your father." Teresa looked back at Christian, her brows furrowing incriminatingly. She shook her head, "you aren't her father. I _know _her father. I married and _divorced _her father."

Christian exhaled sharply, reached under his suit jacket and pulled out a familiar looking piece of paper, thrusting it towards the woman. "According to this, I _am _her father. I've been her father for nineteen years. Up until now, I had no idea I even _had_ a daughter, but it's the truth, whether you believe it or not. I'm Amy's father...and she's my daughter." His eyes went to a melancholy Amy.

The tears were already streaming down Amy's cheeks. It felt so much more real when she heard the words coming from his mouth as opposed to hers. He had spoken them before to her adoptive father, but they hadn't felt quite as meaningful that time as they did now. Her heart constricted in her chest, fighting to gain control of herself before she really lost it.

Teresa's eyes widened in astonishment at the birth certificate in his hand. With a shaky hand, she took the piece of paper from him, looking it over as if it held all the answers to her growing concerns. After a moment, she looked up at the man before her and then at Amy. A scowl crossed her face. "There never was a Kimberly, was there? Is this the Christian you've been talking about? Amy, why didn't you tell me? How long have you been keeping this from me? Did you think I wouldn't find out eventually? Answer me!"

Amy set the box -- she still held in her arms -- down on the front lawn beneath her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself, turning even further away from her mother as the tears continued to fall. Try as she might, she couldn't block out the sound of her mother's accusing tone. Her mother reached out to touch her, but she instantly pulled away, almost as if she had been burned. She shook her head vigorously as the woman's questions kept coming. Her body shook with emotion.

"Hey!"

Amy and Teresa both turned their heads at the sound of Christian's voice. Bringing one of her hands up to her face, she wiped her tears away with the pad of her index finger. She sniffled softly as Christian stepped closer, placing himself between her and her mother. Her brows furrowed in thought. She wondered what he was about to do, but she had a pretty good guess.

"Let me ask you something, have you given any thought to way you've been raising her?"

Teresa's jaw hung open incredulously. "Well of course I have! Why? What's wrong with the way I raise her?"

Christian scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, I would have thought that after all the hell her adoptive father had put her through, you would _at least_ listen to her every once and a while."

"I listen to her. The truth of the matter is, she doesn't listen to _me_!"

"That's bullshit!" Amy cried suddenly.

Christian whirled around and leaned towards her, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Let me handle this sweetheart."

She sniffled softly, brushing away another tear from the corner of her eye. Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, she nodded her head in regard to which Christian turned back to her mother. Teresa stood there with her hands firmly planted on her hips, and the expression to match.

"Do you always treat her like a child? Because from what I've heard, you don't seem to think she's even capable of supporting herself. She's nineteen! Which means she's legally an adult. You don't really expect her to live here the rest of her life, do you?"

"No, I don't expect her to, but she doesn't exactly have a job to support herself. I even have to pay her car insurance. Did she tell you that? I'm still supporting her."

"She may not have a job yet, but she _will_, once she comes to work at Troy/McNamara, and believe me, she'll be making twice as much there than she would working at a God damn fast food restaurant. As far as her car insurance goes, you'll no longer be obligated to pay another dime. I'll be doing that. Along with anything else she needs."

It warmed Amy's heart that Christian had stepped in to defend her, and for the second time. He'd saved her from the vengance of her adoptive father, and now he was educating her mother on her parenting skills. Something that Amy had been fighting to get through to her for the longest time. She might not have been able to read the woman's mind, but cocking her head to see around her father, she could tell by the dumb founded look on Teresa's face that he was getting through to her. Maybe things would be okay after all, but she wasn't about to get her hopes up. She knew how pig-headed her mother could be.

"Who do you think you are coming into her life now, and thinking that you know what's best for her? Where have you been for the last nineteen years? Who are you to tell me how she should or shouldn't be raised? Have you had to put up with her frequent mood swings and bouts of depression? Maybe your specialty should have been psychology. That is, if you think you're so good at giving advice."

Amy's heart constricted in her chest as her mother fired back with yet another stream of questions, but this time, they hurt her twice as more than they had before. Bringing one of her hands up to her mouth, she started to sob softly, wishing more than ever that she could just grab Christian and they could get the hell out of there. As she stood there behind him, she had to consistently remind herself that this wasn't her real mother. That nothing she said actually mattered. She shut her eyes tightly, awaiting to hear what Christian had to say back.

Christian sighed deeply, fixing his eyes on Teresa. "I told you, I didn't even realize I had a daughter until she recently came to my office. I've known her for about a week now, and maybe I haven't been around for the last nineteen years of her life, but that's all about to change. One thing's for sure, I'll be a hell of a better father than that asshole you chose to marry."

Teresa's voice broke as she replied, "I was young and I thought I was in love. What else did you expect of me? How can a teenager know what was right for her? What was right for her then, might not have been right for her twenty years later."

"Well you certainly made that abundantly clear. Look, I may not be a God damn psychologist, but unlike her adoptive father, I would _never_ lay a hand on her, no matter how much shit she gave me."

The woman shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let's not discuss this any longer. I think you've made your point, and my point just as well."

Amy sniffled as the tears flowed down her cheeks. "Christian..." She began in a weak and slightly shaky voice. He turned around, gazing down at her and noticing the tears in her eyes. A scowl immediately crossed his face. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he'd get the message. Tempted as she was to reach out and hug him, she held back, deciding that now would probably not be the best time.

He nodded his head in regard, glancing down at the box that she'd set down earlier. "Did you get all your things packed-up?"

She nodded gently. "Yeah, there's still four more boxes up in my room. I couldn't carry all of them. What about my bed and all the other heavier things?"

"We'll get those things later, I'll hire a moving van company to come out here." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and placing a kiss to the top of her head. "Let's go get the rest of your things and get the hell out of here."

She sighed deeply, "gladly." As he rotated around on his heels to head towards her house, she stepped up to her mother, snatching the birth certificate out of her hand. "Do you finally understand why I want to leave so badly now?"

Teresa scowled as she gazed back at her daughter. "Well, since you're old enough to make that decision, it's entirely up to you. If you don't value any of the years that I painstakingly put up with you and still loved you in spite of that, then go."

Amy wiped a few more tears from her eyes, sniffling deeply. She could tell that her mother was fighting to hold back her own tears, and even as she tried not to let her words get to her, they still managed to spark a feeling of guilt within her. Stealing a glance over at Christian, who had looked back at her to see if she was following, she held up a hand that conveyed she wanted him to wait for her. Turning back to look at her mother, she sighed woefully. "I don't know what you expect me to say. I _love_ Christian. He's the father I wish I'd had growing up. Not Frank. I'd been meaning to tell you ever since I found out, but I knew you'd never understand. Look, all I'm saying is that I need to do this. I need to get away from here for a while, and I need to find myself, and the only way I can find myself...is with Christian, my _real _father. I'm sorry."

Without giving the woman the chance to reply, she dashed off towards Christian. The two of them entered the house and headed up to her bedroom. Together, both she and Christian fetched the boxes from her room and loaded them into his car. They had crossed paths with her mother when they came back into the house for the last two boxes, but Amy was surprised to see that she was mostly keeping to herself. Not even bothering to speak a word to them nor look them in the eye. She would have at least thought she'd give Christian or her a dirty look, if not a few last words she'd been holding back.

As Christian carried the last box out to his car, Amy found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal before her. Although it was there, she didn't look as though she were actually eating it. She had the spoon in her hand, but all she was doing with it was stirring what was in the bowl. A deep sigh escaped her, not knowing what else there was left to say. She leaned against the door frame, looking anxiously over at her. "I'm going to go now. I just...I just thought I'd say bye."

Teresa hadn't bothered looking up when she'd spoken, but after a minute, she sighed softly and finally raised her chin to look at her. It was at that moment, Amy realized that her cheeks were tear-stained from crying, and tears still seemed to be evident in her eyes. "I still love you, remember that okay? I still love you," her voice shook with emotion.

Suddenly, Amy felt those familiar tears welling up within her own eyes, but she wouldn't allow herself to let them fall. Biting down on her bottom lip, she took in a breath to compose herself. She forced herself to look away from her mother before the flood gates broke open. After what Christian had told her of her biological mother wanting nothing to do with her, she suddenly realized how lucky she was to have this other woman in her life. It didn't matter that she hadn't met Danielle Fuller. Here was a mother who actually loved her in spite of all the things she said to her or did that she didn't approve of, and even though a part of her still hated how overbearing and stubborn she could be, a bigger part of her was glad she'd been the one to raise her for most of her life. "Yeah," she spoke softly with a gentle nod of her head.

She would have said she loved her too, but at the time, she didn't know if she had enough strength to utter the words without bursting into tears.

"Amy?"

She turned her head at the sound of Christian's voice. He stood just outside the open front door, an expectant look on his face, but his expression instantly transformed when he saw her. A scowl crossed his face, and she knew he had to have seen the tears gleaming in her eyes. "Are you coming sweetheart?" He asked gently.

She pursed her lips, giving him a firm nod of her head. "Yeah." Taking one last look at her mother's melancholy form, a tear managed to escape the corner of her eye. She instantly brought her hand up to brush it away, sniffling softly. Pushing her petite frame away from the door way of the kitchen, she turned and walked out the front door. She wrapped her arms around herself as she started down the front walk towards Christian's car.

He fell in step beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and urging her close to his side. "Don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart. Everything's going to be all right from now on," he placed a kiss to the side of her head, his hand lightly caressing her arm, "I promise."

She swallowed the lump that had taken form in her throat, lightly nodding her head in response. "I know."

Was it really over? Was it really going to be all right from now on? She was finally free from the chains that were binding her, and finally felt somewhat independent. This should have been a momentous ocassion to be celebrated. She was becoming more of an adult, and would finally be able to live on her own. Free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. There wouldn't be an overbearing parent there to scold her or boss her around. So Christian was her real father, but from what she could see, he wasn't exactly one to set ground rules for her. She could be free to be the rebellious person she always wanted to be. Right?

Boy, was she in for a big surprise.


	28. Father Knows Best

"Does it really matter what color my furniture is? I don't think anyone is going to really give a shit if it's not all the same color."

Christian's eyes roamed over the large assortment of furniture that surrounded him in every direction of the large Ikea retail warehouse. He and Amy were two itty bitty people lost in a sea of leather sofas, hard-wood tables and chairs, twin to king-sized beds, and other domestic things such as rugs, lamps, and carpet of every shade imaginable. There was furniture of every size, color, and material. As they traipsed up and down the numerous long and winding aisles, she flopped down onto various beds, sofas, and chairs, testing them out to see if they were comfortable enough, and if they were to her liking. Although he was getting irritable with her indeciveness, he couldn't help but smile to himself that she was just as materialistic as he was. She certainly was a Troy from the get go...last name or not. They simply had to have the best of everything. No matter what the case may be.

A weary sigh escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly don't want your condo looking like a circus. If I were you, I'd decide on a few solid colors and stick with that." To be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if she told him she wanted the same colors for her condo as his was. Like father like daughter, right?

"I think I'll go with the same colors as my bedding. Brown, black, and teal blue." She nodded her head in regard as she plopped down on a brown, polyurethane sofa. Sinking down into the cushions, she leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She turned her head, taking notice of the sofa she was resting on with an observant eye. "You know what? I like this sofa, it's really comfy..." She reached an arm over the side and grasped the tag, looking it over and cringing, "and really expensive. Seven hundred and fourty nine dollars."

He looked down at her intently, "we already discussed this. Don't worry about the price sweetheart." He brought one of his hands up to his chest, emphasizing his next words, "I'm paying for it." Again.

She exhaled sharply, sitting up and staring at him blankly, uttering words he had been half-surprised to hear. "Look, I know you said that I shouldn't worry about you buying me things, but I can't continue to depend on you like this. It's not right. This isn't the way it should be. I'm supposed to be independent now, aren't I? I should be paying you back for all this stuff...assuming I ever get a job where I can earn this much money." Her gaze dropped to the floor, slumping her shoulders in defeat.

He lowered his frame into the space beside her, turning himself towards her once he was seated and sighing deeply. "That job offer at Troy/McNamara is still on the table. You're free to take it whenever you wish. No application or interview needed." A smirk crossed his face. If she wanted a job so badly, why hadn't she taken the offer to begin with? He didn't quite understand the way her mind worked.

For a long moment, she didn't say anything, and he actually thought she might be having a change of heart and tell him she would take the job. She rested her forearms on her knees, looking back down at the floor. "Let me think about it a little more." She replied finally. After another pause, she continued, "but if I took the job to pay you back for all the stuff you've bought me, I wouldn't actually be paying you back because it would be your own money."

"Technically, but it would also be Sean's money. As you know, I don't run the business all on my own. Look, you really don't have to pay me back one penny. As soon as you take the job, you can pay for your own rent along with your car insurance. If it helps, just think of the furniture and all the other things I've bought you in the past as gifts." Tipping his head to one side, he chuckled softly, "nineteen years of birthday and christmas gifts." A warm smile appeared on his face. That might have been a lame way of putting it, but he didn't have the heart to ask for the money back.

She returned his smile with one of her own, slipping her right arm through his left and clasping her hand over his elbow before resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you. For everything you've done for me so far. This means so much to me."

Christian bit down on his bottom lip, a warm sensation filling his heart. He turned his head and placed a kiss to the top of her head, his arm slipping around her shoulders. "My pleasure. All I want is to see you happy sweetheart." And he did. Seeing her happy initially made him happy. He rested his cheek on top of her head as the two of them sat there quietly, oblivious to anything else but the closeness of one another.

"Amy!" A familiar and slightly cheerful voice broke through the sentimental moment that had taken over the pair. He knew that voice far too well, but everytime he heard it, it still managed to cause his heart to flutter.

Together, both he and Amy turned their heads in the direction of the voice. Clad in a slinky and short black dress that came mid-way down her thighs, Kimber strutted in their direction. "Well this is a pleasant surprise!" The woman beamed, quickening her pace.

He exchanged a look with his daughter, who looked just as bewildered as he did, before looking up at Kimber. What the hell was _she_ doing here? Well, besides the fact that it was a public place for shopping. Was she still clinging to false hope? He felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach. Not again. The bright smile that Kimber had on her face seemed to fade when she noticed him sitting there. Maybe he was wrong about her intentions this time around. Maybe she'd finally moved on.

"Oh, hi Christian." He knew that tone of Kimber's and he knew it well. She wasn't too pleased to see him, but she was trying her hardest to be nice anyway. A tight smile crossed her face. "Long time no see."

Christian met Kimber's gaze. As much as he wanted to be terse with her, he knew he couldn't. Especially since his own daughter was friends with her now. A smug smile crossed his face. "Kimber. How _are _you since the last time we saw each other? _Clean_, I assume?" He arched his brows expectantly.

Kimber's eyes narrowed slightly at his choice of words before turning her head away, looking off to her right. "As a matter of fact, I'm great Christian. Thanks for asking." She brought her eyes back to his face. "How have _you _been? Clearly too busy to return a single one of my phone calls."

He exchanged another look with Amy before turning his focus back on Kimber. "It's called a job sweetheart, we all have them. Well, at least some of us do." He stole a glance at his daughter who shot him a glare. All right, bad choice of words. God damn it! Why couldn't he ever think before speaking? Exhaling sharply, he looked back at Kimber. "Was there something you wanted Kimber?"

She rolled her eyes, "not from you Christian. I think you made your point the last time we talked, don't you?" Her eyes shifted towards Amy, "I just came by to do some shopping and then I saw Amy, so I thought I'd come over and say 'hello.' We met in your office a few days ago." The young girl looked up at Kimber who smiled a friendly smile at her, "hi."

Amy smirked at her, hesitating before uttering a soft, "hi."

Christian's jaw tightened at the way Kimber wrote him off as if he were nothing. He was used to it by now, and not just by her, but by most of the women he'd screwed in the past. He took in a breath to calm himself, struggling to keep his growing aggitation at bay.

An awkward silence suddenly fell over the three of them.

He looked between his daughter and Kimber, expecting one of them to say something. Neither of them did, but he did notice something strange. While Kimber was eyeing Amy, her brown eyes also shifted in his direction, almost as if she were expecting him to leave. Why the hell she would want him to leave was beyond him, but there had to be something going on in her head. Kimber wasn't exactly the type of person who just came over and said "hello," unless of course she wanted something. And, considering the determined look in her eye as she observed his daughter, he had a nagging feeling that Amy had something to do with it. A frustrated sigh escaped him as he pushed himself up to his feet, looking from Kimber to Amy. "Well, now that that's done, are you ready to go sweetheart? We've been here long enough as it is."

Amy had been staring at Kimber just as expectantly as Christian. It took her a moment to realize he was even talking to her. Her brows furrowed in bafflement when she turned to look up at him. "Huh? Oh. Um..." She looked back at Kimber as her voice trailed off.

Kimber took a step towards Amy, setting a hand on her shoulder and looking over at Christian. "Actually, would you mind if I borrowed Amy for just a minute or two?"

Borrowed his daughter? Kimber Henry, former coke addict turned porn star wanted to "borrow" his daughter? That nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach gripped him, and along with it, he felt a hollowness in his chest. What was she up to now? He cocked a brow her way in challenge, holding Kimber's gaze. He exuded a weary sigh, stealing a glance down at a baffled looking Amy. "What the hell is this about Kimber?"

Kimber's eyes narrowed once again. Her voice rising in pitch with her next words, "what business is it of yours, Christian?" She looked down at the young girl before her, "I just thought it would be nice if Amy and I could speak in private without you breathing down her neck. Is that too much to ask?" She shot him another glare.

Christian exhaled sharply, his gaze turning cold just as hers had. "I'm not breathing down anyone's neck, much less hers." He paused for a moment, not quite sure if Amy had broken the news to her when they'd met or not. Even if she hadn't, he knew the truth would come out sooner or later so he might as well say it. "Whether you believe it or not, Amy is my daughter so there's no logical reason why I'd be breathing down her neck. I'm simply watching out for her better judgement which, I'm sorry to say sweetheart, doesn't include getting involved in the dysfunctional lifestyle you've built for yourself."

She scoffed, "need I remind you that this dysfunctional lifestyle was because of _your_ influence, Christian."

"That's bullshit! It wasn't my influence that got you addicted to coke, nor was it my influence that sent you on a downward spiral. You brought that on yourself, sweetheart. Deny it all you want, but I know you better than you think I do."

"You don't know shit about me."

He took a step towards Kimber, planting his hands firmly on his hips. "Things didn't work out between us, and now you're looking for a playmate. What other reason would you have for borrowing my daughter? It's clear you're just waiting for the opportunity to get her alone to do God knows what." His tone turned grave as did his expression, "well she won't be any part of it. Not if I can help it."

Amy waved her hands in the air. "Hey! Hey! I'm still here, you know?" She looked incredulously at the pair before her, her eyes fixing themselves on him. "Christian..." She sprang up to her feet, stealing a glance in Kimber's direction before placing herself in front of him, gazing up at him even though his gaze was still clearly directed at Kimber. She called to him again, more intently this time. Finally, he brought his eyes down to her. "Do you think Kimber and I _could _talk for a few minutes? Please?"

He exchanged another look with Kimber, not so intent on the idea of leaving her alone with Amy, if only for a few minutes. God knew how much his ex-girlfriend had already corrupted his daughter's mind. Looking back down at Amy, he sighed softly before gently nodded his head. "Sure. I'll go pay for the furniture and make sure it's shipped to your doorstep." He turned to walk away but paused mid-step, turning back to her and lowering his voice to a tone that only she would hear, "you remember what I told you? About Kimber?"

She looked down at her hands, fiddling absentmindedly with a ring on the thumb of her right hand. There was a brief hesitation before she exhaled sharply, nodding her head in regard. "Yeah, I remember, but...it's not like she's done anything to me."

He brought his hand up, placing two fingers beneath her chin and lifting it until she was looking him in the eye. "And I don't want her to. Don't drop your guard. If you think she's always sugar and spice, she's not. She can turn on you without a moments notice. You can't trust her."

She sighed wearily with a roll of her eyes. "Fine, whatever, but she's still my friend."

The way she rolled her eyes slightly aggravated him, but he didn't show it. "I'm just warning you, father to daughter."

"I know."

His eyes darted back to an impatient looking Kimber, the vexation still apparent in his gaze. He took one last look at Amy before turning and heading off in the opposite direction. As much as he wanted to take his daughter home and tell Kimber to leave the two of them alone, he knew that that might create more problems for himself. It would put both relationships in jeopardy. Not only with Kimber, but also with his daughter. Frankly, he could careless what Kimber thought of him at this point, but if she was using Amy simply to get to _him_, that was another story. If it had been Gina who had be-friended his daughter, he would have forbidden her contact with the bitch a long time ago.

Not that Kimber was any different from Gina, but a part of Christian was still attracted to her. In a way. He could deny his feelings countless times, but they were still hidden deep inside him just waiting to make themselves known at any moment. As irresponsible and idiotic as Kimber could be at times, she wasn't half as bad as Gina was, and she wasn't nearly as stubborn either. He was still in love with Kimber and deep down inside, still cared for her, but it was the better part of her that attracted him to begin with. The amazing sex that came with it was only the icing on the cake. While she might be trying to reconcile with him, he simply didn't have time for her at the moment. He was a father again, and this time, he was going to do a hell of better job than he had with Wilbur. If Kimber wanted to be with him, using Amy wasn't the way, but she _was _up to something. He knew that for a fact.

* * *

"God, I thought he'd never leave."

"Uh, Kimber?" Amy stopped just outside the door to the women's restroom, her brows furrowing in bewilderment as Kimber turned back to her expectantly. "What are we...what I mean is, why did you want to talk to me?"

Kimber tossed her head back, her thick blonde curls bouncing as she did so. She stole a glance around the area, almost as if she thought someone was spying on them. Slipping the strap of her purse off her shoulder, she opened it up, revealing to her a familiar white powdery substance in a small envelope that was wedged inside. "I thought you might need a little pick me up, after what happened in Vegas with Christian."

More coke? Amy bit down on her bottom lip anxiously. Not that the stuff hadn't taken her mind off her problems previously, but part of her was hoping that Kimber hadn't wanted to speak to her for this particular reason. She raised her eyes from the coke to the blonde before her, her brows stitching together inquisitively. Before she had a chance to utter a response, Kimber closed her purse back up, grabbed her hand and urged her inside the restroom.

Kimber set her purse down on the sink counter. Leaning her hip against it, she turned back to look over at Amy. "How _are _things going between you and Christian?" She inquired.

She smirked. "Pretty good. I finally moved out of my mom's house and he bought me my own place."

There was not a trace of surprise on Kimber's face, but she did manage to give her a small smile. "Well that was nice of him." Tilting her head to one side, she looked intently at her, "has he said anything about me?"

Amy knew exactly where Kimber was going with that question. She wanted to know if he had said anything _bad _about her. Acting as if she didn't know what she was talking about, she averted her eyes to something else. Crossing her arms over her chest, she brought her right hand up to her mouth, chewing on her thumb. "Like what?"

"Well, all I'm trying to do is help you to get rid of your problems, you know that, don't you honey?" Bending down, Kimber's eyes searched the bottom of the few stalls in the bathroom. Clearly checking to see if anyone was in there besides the two of them. She came back up a moment later, tossing her head back and looking once again at Amy. She brought one of her hands up, placing it on her hip.

She wondered if Kimber was referring to the coke or the state of their friendship, but she still went on to nod her head in regard, making it appear as if she understood what she was saying, even if she didn't.

"I'm just wondering if Christian has said anything that would make you think otherwise." Kimber sighed irritably. "He tends to think he knows everything, but in fact, he doesn't. He hasn't said anything about his past with me, has he?"

She looked down at her feet anxiously, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. Suddenly, her father's words were beginning to echo in her head. _"She can turn on you without a moments notice. You can't trust her."_ Beads of sweat broke out at her temples. Bringing her hand up, she brushed a few strands of hair off of her neck. She shook her head. "No. Well...maybe a couple things." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

Kimber's eyes narrowed in consideration, staring intently at the young girl. "Did he tell you I'm nothing but a coke whore?"

She sighed deeply, slowly raising her eyes back up to the blonde. This was just too nerve-wracking to deal with at the moment. She couldn't tell her the absolute truth, for fear of losing her friendship, but she also couldn't lie to her either. If she did that, she could end up feeling whatever wrath Kimber held when double-crossed, and she really didn't want to find out what she was like when that time came. All of a sudden, in an attempt to change the subject, she found herself uttering words she never thought she'd hear herself say. She stole a glance over at Kimber's purse. "So, are you going to give me some of that stuff or not?"

Kimber didn't look the slightest bit surprised by her request, but she didn't make a move to grab her purse either. "Before that happens, I want to know. When he brought up my name, did he refer to me as a coke whore?"

She knew there was no getting out of this one. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slowly nodded her head. "Yeah, but I don't really believe it...if that means anything."

Kimber shook her head in disbelief, pushing herself away from the counter and turning towards her purse, opening it up and fishing out a small white envelope. "He's such a selfish asshole. It's obvious what he's trying to do."

Amy shot her a glare at the insult she gave her father, and although she wanted to defend him, she was more curious about the words that followed. "What do you mean? What's he trying to do?"

After retrieving a razor blade and a short plastic straw from her purse, Kimber shook out a small amount of the white powdery substance onto the counter, using the razor blade to arrange it into two straight lines, one on top of the other. She stole a glance at Amy, exhaling sharply. "Oh please, he's just looking for an excuse to keep you away from me."

She stepped closer to the sink counter, leaning her back against the wall and watching as Kimber arranged the coke. "Yeah, I kind of noticed that, but just because he's my dad doesn't mean he can tell me who I can't be friends with. He even told me himself that he wouldn't do that. I don't really care what he says about you. I'm not going to stop talking to you or hanging around you because of it."

Kimber looked up at her with a small smile. "Well I'm glad you know how to hold your own, honey, because when you're around Christian, you're going to need it. You can't trust a word he says. He's definitely not the type to keep his promises. It's just a weak attempt to get what he wants." She finished arranging the drug, setting the blade down and leaning over the counter. Holding the straw to one nostril, she took a quick inhalation, the first line of powder disappearing as she did so. Straightening herself up, she passed the straw to Amy. "In fact, he's not capable of loving anything besides himself."

Amy felt her heart involuntarily constrict in her chest. She took in a breath to calm herself, trying mercilessly to keep the flood gates from opening once again. "I thought...you told me there was a better man underneath all that. I've even _seen_ it so he's not always like that, right?" Her voice broke with her last words. As much as she didn't want to believe Kimber's words, the truth of the matter was, Kimber knew her father much longer than she had. She knew his true nature. Her eyes were already welling up in tears, but she refused to let them fall. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to take a hit of that coke. If only to get rid of all the pain. "Give me that damn thing." She snatched the straw out of Kimber's hand, leaned over the counter and held it to her right nostril, taking a sharp inhalation. The second line of powder disappeared in a matter of seconds.

"No, he's not entirely an asshole. If he was, believe me, I would have moved on from him a long time ago." She leaned her hip against the counter once again, tipping her head to one side. "There are times when he can actually be sweet, and kind, and especially affectionate, but it's the other part of him that you have to watch out for. I'm just giving you a friendly warning, sweetie."

Kimber's words were almost entirely drowned out by the "high" that swirled around Amy's head. She arched her head back and shut her eyes. A strong feeling of dizziness swept over her. Wavering on her heels, she reached out to grab a hold of the wall to keep herself from falling over. Her heart rate increased in her chest. She exhaled sharply and opened her eyes, but the room was spinning so much she had to shut them again. Beads of sweat broke out at her temples as a stronger feeling of nausea spread throughout her belly. She thought she heard Kimber ask if she was okay, but she couldn't be sure. "Y-yeah. I'm...f-fine."

After another minute, she felt a little better and slowly opened her eyes. Kimber was gazing at her expectantly.

"How do you feel honey? Was it better than your first?"

Amy laughed lightly. Suddenly, she didn't have a single thought in her head. Not a care in the world. All she felt was excitement, and more energy than she could possibly know what to do with. She was great. Life was great. Not a thing in the world could harm her, not physically nor mentally. She could handle anything that was thrown her way. She was free. This drug was a miracle worker from all the depression and worry she had built up inside her, and she wanted more. She had to have more. "Definitely! I feel great! I feel like I can do anything. Like maybe I should go out dancing and party the night away." She pointed at the envelope Kimber was tucking away into her purse. "That stuff is so amazing! Where do you get it anyway?"

Kimber chuckled, stealing a glance at her and smirking, almost pleased with herself. "I have connections. It's amazing what one hit of this stuff can do for you, huh? It's sure gotten me through many tough times."

She leaned her back against the wall, tilting her head to one side. "Do you think you could...you know, get me some? I have to have more." If she hadn't been under the effects of the coke right now, she probably wouldn't have even had the guts to ask that question, but suddenly, "guts" didn't seem to matter.

Turning her head back to her, Kimber held her gaze. For a brief moment, she didn't say anything. It was almost as if she were contemplating the thought. Then, to Amy's surprise, she reached back inside her purse and came out with the white envelope, thrusting it towards her. "Here, you can have the rest of this." There was enough substance within the small envelope to last her a good week, depending on how many times she used it.

Amy didn't know what to say, but she was definitely tempted. So tempted that before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and took the envelope from her, tucking it quickly into her own purse. She looked back up at Kimber inquisitively. "What about..." She started.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I can get more, I always do."

She laughed. "Oh okay, well thanks. This is great. Life is great!" She pushed herself away from the wall, feeling a burst of energy. "I want to go and do something. Anything, I don't care what. I just want something!"

"Just make sure Christian doesn't see it. If he does, he'll know I gave it to you."

She shook her head, blinking back the excess dizziness she still felt swirling around her. "He won't. No way. I'll hide it somewhere where he'll never find it. Besides, it's not like I'm still staying at his place. I have my own now." She smirked.

Kimber returned the small smile, a weary sigh escaping her. "Well, you should probably get back to Christian, before he comes to find you himself. He's probably pissed as it is that I've kept you as long as I have."

Suddenly, she seemed to have forgotten that Christian was even waiting for her. Not only that, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what she was even doing here. She nodded her head. "Right. Yeah, I guess I should, but its not like he owns me or anything. I'm my own woman now." Once she and Kimber turned and walked out of the restroom, she noticed her surroundings and the memory came rushing back to her.

"You know, I'm not trying to offend you honey, but have you ever considered going bigger?"

Her brows furrowed in bafflement at Kimber's choice of words. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Kimber chuckled, leaning in and lowering her voice as they walked alongside each other, both of them striding along the winding path -- that ran through the middle of the store -- as quickly as the other. "I mean your breasts."

Amy scowled, stealing a glance down at her chest. "No, why?"

"Well, I just think you'd feel so much better about yourself if you went up a cup size, or made some other kind of physical adjustment. I mean, you're gorgeous sweetie, but I remember you telling me that you weren't happy with how you look. If you really want to feel better, the best way to do it is with plastic surgery. I know that when I got _my_ breasts done, it changed my life more than I thought it would and suddenly, I was a ten."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I could consider it. I mean, right now, I feel great, so why not? Yeah, definitely. I'll do it!"

A bright smile came over Kimber's face. "Trust me, it's worth it." Her smile faded and an irritable sigh escaped her. "Christian fixed my breasts, why don't you ask him? I'm sure he'd give it to you for free. I mean, you _are_ his daughter."

She shrugged her shoulders. In the back of her mind, she wasn't sure that she would want her own father to give her a boob job. It would be far too weird for her. "I guess we'll just have to see what happens. Knowing him, he'd probably freak out about it." Suddenly, Kimber halted her steps, her gaze fixated on something in front of her. Amy couldn't fathom the reason why she'd stopped until she turned her head, and came face-to-face with none other than Christian himself. His hands were firmly planted on his hips, and there was a look of vexation on his face. If she hadn't stopped walking shortly after Kimber had, she was sure she would have slammed right into him. "Oh, hi Christian. Sorry it took so long. I was talking to Kimber and then I kind of lost track of time I guess. Did you pay for the furniture? I thought you'd be waiting in the car."

The moment she began talking in a rapid succession, Christian's gaze darted from Kimber to her. His brows stitched together inquisitively. He hesitated before finally uttering a reply. "The furniture has already been paid for, but considering how long you were gone, I probably _should_ have waited outside for you." He looked from her to Kimber and then back to her, looking down at her intently. "Are you all right sweetheart?"

She exchanged a look with Kimber before giving him a vigorous nod of her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Peachy keen. Why? I just want to go home so I can finish un-packing, but I'm fine. Really."

Christian stood there for a long moment, his eyes shifting back and forth between her and Kimber. Finally, his attention settled on his daughter. Slipping his hand into one of the pockets on his grey suit jacket, he fished out his car keys, handing them over to Amy. He brought his free hand up and gently touched her arm. "Why don't you go wait for me out in the car? I'll be there in a few minutes."

She didn't quite know why he wanted her to wait for him, but didn't look it as such a big deal. Snatching the keys from his hand, she nodded her head in regard. "Okay, I will. See you guys later!" She gave both Kimber and Christian a quick glance before scurrying past her father, and making her way out of the store to his car.

* * *

Christian fixed his cold and calculating eyes on Kimber, who, stood there staring at him expectantly and a bit perturbed. He advanced on her until he was looming over her, hands firmly planted on his hips. There was no way he was letting her slip past him. Not this time. Something was going on. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Kimber narrowed her eyes incriminatingly. "Excuse me?"

He exhaled sharply. "Oh, don't act like you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, Kimber. You must have done _something _to her or you wouldn't have taken so damn long, and she wouldn't suddenly seem so jumpy."

"What kind of a person do you think I am, Christian? Do you really think I'm nothing but a coke whore? That the only thing I'm trying to do is screw her up? Well, newsflash asshole, I don't get off destroying people's lives. Have you given it any thought that I might actually be trying to _help _her?"

He supressed the laugh that wanted to escape him, his features remaining stone cold. His tone of voice grew louder with his next words, "help her? By doing what? Forcing her into snorting an ounce of coke, giving her the reassurance that it'll take all her pain away?" He leaned in a little closer to her, his tone turning grave. "If I find out that your frequent coke abuse has rubbed off on her, I'll personally make sure that little career of yours is in the ground, along with your reputation."

"Be careful Christian, you wouldn't want to find another one of your precious cars vandalized." Kimber averted her eyes away from his face, "and for your information, I'm clean now. I haven't touched an ounce of the stuff since my surgery."

"Bullshit!" He had repaired her nose about two weeks ago, rebuilding her septum gratis. The result of her incessant coke abuse, had created a hole in her nose, the size of a quarter. Giving her the sugery had actually worked in his advantage. At the time, he'd been facing a nasty custody hearing with Wilbur, and Gina had managed to get Kimber on her side and go against Christian. However, Christian managed to make a deal with Kimber. He'd fix her nose and she wouldn't take the stand. "If you're so clean then look me in the eye and I'll decide for myself."

Kimber slipped the strap of her purse off her shoulder, shoving it against his chest. "You don't believe me, fine, search my purse. You won't find a damn thing!"

Christian didn't have the patience to go through all of the shit in her purse. If he knew her well enough, and he did, she was clever at concealing it. It could be anywhere for all he knew, but he didn't have the time to look for it, nor did he care. All she had to do was look him in the eye and he'd know. Regardless of that fact, he opened up the purse anyway and took a brief peek inside. He didn't see any traces of it or even a small white envelope or ziplock bag that would give it away. With an irritable sigh, he handed her purse back to her. "I don't need to look through your God damn purse to know you're high. Why the hell can't you look me in the eye, hmm?"

She didn't bother answering his question, nor follow through with his request.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you're clean," he pressed. "God damn it! Look at me." He brought his free hand up to her chin, intent on getting her to look at him, but she swatted his hand away before he could even touch her.

Kimber snatched her purse out of Christian's hand, finally raising her eyes up to his. "I don't have a God damn thing to prove to you!" Before he had a chance to take a good look at her pupils, she brushed past him, nearly knocking him down on her way by as she strode towards the front of the store. The soles of her open-toed, two-inch heeled black sandals clicking smartly against the white linolieum floor.

Christian whirled around on his heels, watching her depart. His jaw tightened up, taking in a breath to calm himself before he snapped. He knew it would probably be useless to try and chase after her, but since he was on his way out as well, he took the liberty of trailing behind her. In a vain attempt to catch up to her, he quickened his pace. She might have been moving fast, but not so fast that he couldn't reach her. In a matter of seconds, he was a mere two feet behind her. He fell in step beside her, his eyes fixing themselves on her somber features. "I just want you to know, if you're screwing with my daughter in any way, I'll find out. One way or another."

She shot him a glare. "I'm trying to be her friend, Christian. Why can't you get that through your God damn head?" She faced forward once again. "My friendship obviously isn't appreciated by you, seeing as how you don't seem to give a shit about me anymore."

He'd tried to hold back the feelings he held for Kimber deep inside, but as she uttered those last words, he could feel the walls he'd built up around himself begin to crumble. Why did she always have a way of making him vunerable, powerless and out of control? A weary sigh escaped him, the vexation in his eyes and in his voice gradually evaporating. "That's not true."

"Oh bullshit Christian!" She snapped, stealing a quick glance in his direction. "If you cared even the slightest bit about me, you would have found the time to return my calls. I hadn't heard a word from you since the day I was discharged for my surgery. You didn't even bother calling to check up on me."

He looked over at her with a scowl. It might have just been his imagination, but he could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. She was right though. He hadn't bothered calling her after the surgery, nor had he returned a single one of her calls over the past week. "I'm sorry Kimber. I probably should have called you, but I've been dealing with a hell of a lot lately. I've become a father again, and I'm sorry to say it, but I can't fall back into old patterns with you sweetheart. This is who I am now."

Kimber's steps slowed until she finally came to a halt, a mere five feet from the front doors of the store. He stopped walking shortly after she had, turning towards her and cocking his head to see her face. She looked to be barely holding it together, and when she finally raised her eyes up to him, he saw the tears in her eyes. "I don't even know why I bother anymore." She sighed softly, looking down at her feet.

"Kimber--" Christian began but was shortly cut off.

She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze once again. Her eyes narrowed on his form. "You know what Christian? Just forget it." Without giving him the chance to debate with her, she turned on her heels and walked quickly through the automatic doors, not bothering to look back.

He stood there, watching with a slightly dumbfounded look on his face, as she departed for the second time. Although he had made an attempt to prove her theory wrong, in all honesty, he didn't know what more there was left to say. He'd made his point clear, much in the same way he had in the past when he'd been devoting his time to raising Wilbur. As much as he still cared about Kimber, she simply didn't seem to understand his need to be a father. Amy had spent so many years suffering the abuse of a man who didn't know shit about fatherhood. Well, he'd been through it himself, and no way in hell was he going to let it happen to his own child.

A deep sigh escaped him. At the time, he _should_ have been contemplating Kimber's potentially bad influence on Amy, but instead, he was beginning to feel guilty for his recent behavior towards her. He hadn't gotten a good look at her pupils to put his coke assumptions to rest, but come to think of it, she hadn't been acting much out of the ordinary as it was. It was a hell of a longshot, but maybe she had been truthful with him. She might be clean after all. Well, whether she was or wasn't, he couldn't dwell on it anymore. He had a daughter to tend to.


	29. Consults and Problems

Pacing back and forth in her spacious bedroom, Amy chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. Although she'd gone furniture shopping with Christian that day, she'd only been in her new condo nearly one day. It had taken a course of three days for the person before her to move out, and one more day for her bedroom furniture to be brought in by the moving company. Except for her bedroom and the bathroom, the rest of the apartment was relatively empty. Her eyes shifted every now and then towards the cordless phone that sat on her nightstand, debating whether or not to make the call.

The call that she knew would either make her or break her. She'd been home for over an hour, and although she had told Kimber she'd do it, she hadn't been thinking half as clearly then as she was now. She'd been under the influence of the coke she'd snorted. When she'd gotten back, she'd gone into the bathroom. For a few minutes, she'd stood shirtless before the mirror, staring intently back at her own reflection, but more so, at her breasts. They weren't A-cup flat, but they weren't ample either. Kimber was right. She could definitely benefit from going up a cup size. It would definitely be a change for the better. After all, she was long overdue for a makeover, and who knew, this might actually get her a date with a cute guy.

She halted her pacing, shaking the doubts and worries out of her mind and stepping towards her full-sized bed, lowering her petite frame onto the comfy mattress. A deep sigh escaped her, lifting her hand up to reach for the phone. She hesitated before finally snatching it off its base and dialing the number for the McNamara/Troy office. The number that was stationed beside the cordless phone. She had scrawled it on a hot pink piece of notepad paper. She swallowed the huge lump that had taken form in her throat as she listened to it ring. Once. Twice.

"McNamara/Troy, how can I help you?" An unfamiliar but kind female voice spoke.

It took her a moment to get the words out. "Um...can I speak to Dr. McNamara please?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

Her mind went blank. Shit. What was she supposed to say? Of course she'd already met her father's partner, but she'd only spoken to him once, and although he was trained to handle requests like this on a normal basis, this was far from normal to her. She was Christian's daughter.

"Hello?" The voice came again, more intent this time.

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and saying the first thing that came to mind. "Sorry. Amy Gellar."

"One moment please, I'll see if he's available."

The woman put her on hold for a minute. A minute that, to her, felt like an eternity. Then, at long last, she heard the familiar and friendly voice she'd came in contact with a few days ago. "This is Dr. McNamara. How may I help you?"

Her heart began pounding in her chest, trying mercilessly to think of the right words to say. "Um, h-hi. This is Amy Gell--well, Amy Troy. I'm Christian's daughter. We met before. Do you remember?"

There was a slight hesitation before Sean answered. "Yes. Amy, of course. I remember. What can I do for you? If you're looking for Christian, he's not scheduled to work today."

"I'm not. I actually just went out with him, but I wanted to talk to _you_ about something."

"Why? Are you and Christian experiencing some problems?"

"Oh! No, it's not like that. We're getting along fine. It's about...something else."

"Oh, all right. Well, what can I do for you then?"

As hard as she tried to form a coherent sentence, she simply couldn't. Although she'd gotten this far through the conversation and her nerves should be subsiding, they weren't. Her heart rate clearly had no intention of slowing down. Not until she went through with this as planned.

_I can't do this._

No, she could. She could do _anything_ right now. Her mother wasn't around to disapprove of the things she did. She was free to do whatever the hell she wanted. No! No, she wasn't. She couldn't! Could she? It would be stupid. She could wind up hating herself for it afterwards. Or maybe, just maybe, she'd feel ten times better than she did now. It would sure give her self-esteem a boost, and that's what she needed.

"Hello? Amy?"

Realizing that Sean was still on the line, she pushed her thoughts aside for the second time and spoke softly. "Yeah, I'm here. Sorry." She took in a deep breath, attempting to calm her pounding heart. "Um, I was wondering if...you might be able to--if _I _could come in for...a consultation?"

There was a moment of silence from the other line. Suddenly she wished she hadn't said anything at all. She wished she had just hung up or told him to forget about it entirely. Well, it was too late for that now. Not sensing he'd even reply, she nearly jumped out of her skin when he finally did. "A consult? Are you actually considering plastic surgery, a girl your age? If you don't mind my asking, exactly how old are you?"

She exhaled sharply, part of her wishing she had thought to ask her father instead. No, that would be worse. Much worse than this. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stammered a reply. "I-I'm nineteen, and...yeah. I was thinking about getting...breast implants. If that's okay."

He paused for a moment before sighing softly. "I'm sorry Amy, but I think you'd better speak to Christian about this first."

"I can't," she replied abruptly. "I wouldn't feel comfortable talking to him or even having him do this. It would be too weird, and if he found out I was even thinking about it, he might not even let me do it."

"Look, in the off chance that you did come in for a consult and schedule something, there's no guarantee that he wouldn't find out eventually. Also, as his partner and best friend, I don't feel its right that I keep something like this from him. Neither should you. He is after all your father."

She hadn't realized just how difficult it might be to reason with her father's partner. After all, he was more than his partner. As tempted as she was to hang up and can the whole idea, she couldn't bring herself to let go of the phone. He was right though. Even if she did have the surgery, Christian would be bound to find out. One way or another. An irritable sigh escaped her. "Well, I'm still old enough to decide what I want, aren't I? I mean, I'm legal. Can't I just come in for a consult? There's nothing wrong with that, right?"

"Of course not. Technically, you are of legal age." He paused once more, exuded another sigh and then continued. "I have an opening tomorrow around four thirty. I can see you then, but I can't make any guarantees that Christian won't find out before that time comes."

"Deal. Four thirty sounds good to me."

"All right, then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks Dr. McNamara."

"You're welcome."

After the two of them exchanged good-byes, she slowly brought the phone away from her ear and set it back onto its base. Her brows stitched together in consideration, a migraine already taking form in her head. For a long moment, she sat there contemplating what she'd just done and wondering if she'd been stupid to do it. She knew she was running a huge risk in her father finding out about her possible boob job, and the fact that he might end up finding out before she even came in for the consult. All of it was making her head throb ten times more than it already was. No. She couldn't deal with this right now. She had to get her mind off it, and she knew just the way to do it.

Turning around, she reached over and grabbed her purse from the opposite side of the bed. Reaching inside, she pulled out the small white envelope that Kimber had given her. Within a matter of minutes, she'd be feeling ready to face the world again.

* * *

Christian sat restlessly in the chair behind his desk, his jaw tight and his eyes gleaming with hatred as he stared back at the man that sat across from him. The asshole who had put such a damper on his child's life. The asshole who had gotten what was coming to him, and Christian prayed would continue to get what was coming to him for years to come. He'd inflicted so much hell upon Amy and he deserved to burn there for all eternity. With a frustrated sigh, he removed the cap from his red pen and averted his gaze to the forms before him. "Let's get this bullshit over with."

"None of this bullshit _would_ be happening if it hadn't been for you." Frank Gellar remarked scornfully. Since Christian's assault on him, there was a purple tint around Frank's now swollen left eye, and a dark red hue around his broken nose. "You could have avoided the whole thing if you'd stayed the fuck away from my daughter--"

Flashing him an icy cold glare, he cut the man off before he could say anymore. At the same time, trying relentlessly to keep his rage from overpowering him, but it was a task in itself. "She's not your daughter anymore asshole! She's mine! When are you going to get that through your God damn head?" He snapped.

The man sat back in his seat, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. His expression was rigid as he stared Christian down. "What merrits you to call yourself her fucking father? _I'm_ the one who raised her, not you!"

He willed himself to take in a breath before he exploded, but it didn't prevent him from throwing down the pen in his hand. The impact of the pen hitting the desk caused it to bounce off and sail to the ground. If he'd had it his way, he would rather have liked to see it bounce off the desk and hit Frank in the eye. "I'm her _biological_ father! Incase you're just now joining the likes of the sane, you're nothing more than her foster father, which means you had absolutely no part in her conception. Your name sure as hell wasn't on the birth certificate, mine was, and if you need more proof of that, you might do well to talk to your ex-wife. Assuming that you haven't kicked her to the curb as well."

Frank's expression remained rigid, as if Christian's words hadn't had any effect whatsoever. "So you've told Teresa who you are." His words were more in the form of a statement rather than a question. "That's not going to do you any good. She knows who you are, but say that I do believe you...not a damn thing is going to change. You'll give me my surgery or any rights that my ex-wife has given you will be gone within a blink of an eye."

A huge lump formed in his throat as he felt his heart constrict in his chest. Even though his emotions were threatening to overpower his rage, his gaze remained stone-cold. He recalled his previous conversation with the asshole, in which Frank disclosed he had potential information on him that would destroy his parental rights to Amy. Going to her mother with it would be one thing, but if he somehow found evidence to take to the police, he could be facing more than just a custody hearing. "I already told you I'd give you your God damn surgery. Why the hell do you think I'm even here? I didn't exactly wake up this morning looking forward to seeing you, but since I've been forced to do so, let's just put the bullshit aside and get it over with." He pushed himself back an inch or two in his chair, dropping his gaze to the floor and searching for the pen he'd dropped a moment ago.

The sound of Frank's voice escalated with his next words. "You think I wanted to see your face?" He rolled his eyes before they narrowed irritably on Christian, who had found his pen and shot the man a glare after he'd reached down to pick it up. "I want to get this over with as much as you do, but if you don't watch what you say, you're only going to make it harder for yourself. Payback is a bitch."

Now, more than ever, Christian wished he could finish this guy off once and for all. Break something else besides his nose. Break his neck or better yet, his leg. Break both his legs so he couldn't get near his daughter again. At least not anytime soon. He clenched his teeth together, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What the hell do you think it means?" Frank brought his hand up, gesturing to his nose, "you broke my nose you son of a bitch, and if you don't watch your mouth, I'll do the same thing to you."

A scoff escaped him, turning his head away and mumbling under his breath, "been there, done that." He leaned in a little closer, setting his forearms upon the desk. Hatred gleamed within his eyes as his voice took on a gravely tone. "You're not going to do shit, to me _or_ my daughter. I'm going to give you your God damn surgery, and then you're going to get the hell out of our lives, do I make myself clear?"

"You're wasting your breath because as I told you before, you're not keeping me from seeing her. I'm still her father whether either of you like it or not, and there's nothing you can do to change that."

"Bullshit!" Christian shot up onto his feet, the chair nearly toppling over as he did so. As hard as he'd fought to get control of his temper, he couldn't hold back anymore. His rage snapped like the strings of a guitar, and along with it went the tone of his voice. "Once I file a restraining order on your ass, you'll see a change! You won't be able to come anywhere near her again, and if you keep harassing her with phone calls, I'll find a way to block those too."

Frank sprang up to his feet, placing his hands firmly on his hips and stepping towards Christian's desk until the two men were face-to-face. "Go ahead and try it asshole! Teresa won't be the only one who will know how fucked up you are. I'm going to look like a Saint compared to you once my daughter knows the shit you've done. The kid won't go anywhere near you, she'll come back to me."

"She won't believe a God damn thing you say. She's not that stupid."

"She'll believe it, once she hears it from someone else. I have my sources you son of a bitch."

Before Frank realized what was happening or Christian knew what he was doing, he quickly stepped out from behind his desk, covering the distance between him and the man in two quick strides. He lunged at Frank, seizing him by the neck and slamming him up against the wall a split second later. "You're not going to do a God damn thing, do you understand me?" He sneered, his heart pounding madly against his chest. He continued, bellowing the last eight words of his sentence. "If I find out you've screwed with her head in _any_ way, you'll be getting reconstructive surgery for the rest of your God damn life!"

"What the hell is going on in here?" A familiar voice demanded. "Christian! What the hell are you doing?"

Christian was too caught up in his rage to realize that anyone was even speaking to him. His hold on the man grew tighter as the man struggled to free himself. Frank pulled his right arm back, his hand clenching into a fist, but before the hand could connect with his face, Christian's free hand shot up and grabbed the man's wrist firmly.

"Let go of me...you son of a bitch!" Frank managed to utter through his clenched, and slightly crooked front teeth.

Christian didn't make a move to fulfill his command, but before he could shout at the asshole anymore, he felt a firm hand settle down on his right shoulder and saw another hand settle on Frank's shoulder, instantly forcing the two of them apart. He would have been outraged by the action entirely if he hadn't looked up, coming face-to-face with none other than a peevish and bewildered Sean.

Sean stole a glance in Frank's direction before turning his attention to Christian. "What the hell is wrong with you Christian? What's going on in here?"

He huffed, planting his hands firmly on his hips as his eyes shifted from Sean to Frank, who was fuming in much the same way he was, and then back to Sean. "Stay out of this Sean. This asshole brought it on himself."

"You're the asshole! You attacked _me_!" Frank sneered.

"Oh bullshit! You were just looking for an excuse for me to mangle your face again."

Sean's brows furrowed inquisitively, his gaze shifting between the two men before him. He held up a hand, stepping between he and Frank. "All right, that's enough!" Christian could sense that Sean didn't trust either of them not to go after the other, therefore, he put himself between them. Turning his head, Sean looked over at Frank, the bewilderment still present on his face. "I'm Dr. McNamara, and you would be?"

Frank shot Christian a glare before meeting Sean's gaze. "Frank Gellar." The man sighed in frustration, taking a step towards him. "I was here for a consultation, but this son of a bitch took it upon himself and attacked me again. Oh yeah, he's done it before. How do you think my face got like this?" He brought his hand up, gesturing to the damage on his face.

"Oh I can answer that question." Christian took a few steps towards Frank, his voice escalating in the same manner as before with his last five words. "This whole situation started when you put your hands on my God damn daughter!"

As Christian and Frank inched closer to each other, Sean kept his feet firmly planted on the ground. He brought both his hands up, his arms outstretched on either sides of his body, keeping the two from going any further. "That's enough!" He shouted. His brows lowered as he countered Christian, "Christian, go wait in my office! I'll finish Mr. Gellar's consult."

As much as Christian wanted to stay and beat the shit out of the man, he knew that arguing with Sean would only make matters worse. Frankly, he was somewhat relieved that he'd offered to finish the consultation. If he stayed in that room any longer with the prick, he would probably kill him. He exchanged a look with Sean, exhaling sharply. His eyes shifted back to an expectant Frank, sending him a look of vexation before finally turning and stalking towards the open door. Even before he reached the door, he could sense his best friend's eyes were still on him. Not caring what either Frank or Sean said, he exited the office, slamming the door behind him.

Once he reached Sean's office, he simply couldn't find it within himself to remain in the same place for too long. He began pacing back and forth, trying to get a handle on his temper before he exploded and put his fist through the wall. It felt like he'd been waiting a century for Sean to return, and with each passing minute, he was getting more and more frustrated. Finally, about ten minutes later, the door opened and Sean stepped inside. He could tell by the firm expression on his partner's face that he was about to snap at him.

"Look Sean, before you say anything--"

Sean cut him off before he could go any further. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Christian?" He demanded. "That's no way to treat a potential client! What the hell is the matter with you? Do you want us to get hit with yet another lawsuit? We can't afford to lose anymore business. The Bobbi Broderick case was bad enough, and now this?"

He exhaled sharply as he shot a glare his way. "If you'd let me speak for one God damn minute, I'll tell you." He sighed deeply, bringing both of his hands up to his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead. "That asshole got what was coming to him. After all the shit he's put Amy through..." His voice trailed off, his hands falling back at his sides. He shook his head, his gaze averting to the ground.

Sean's brows stitched together in bewilderment. "Amy?" He paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate the thought before his expression changed. He solemnly nodded his head. "He's her foster father, isn't he?"

He scoffed, placing his hands firmly on his hips before lifting his chin to look up at him. "That asshole doesn't deserve to be called a father, and no matter how many God damn times I've tried to tell him, he can't get it through his head. If it came down to it, she'd sure as hell choose me over him." He felt his temper rising to the surface once again, but he bit back his frustration and began pacing back and forth once again.

"Christian, whether you want to believe it or not, he is still her father. In some sense of the word, but what gave you the right to hit him to begin with? Declaring his own parental right to Amy doesn't earn him a broken nose or even a black eye for that matter. You're lucky he's not pressing charges."

"That's not the reason I hit him!"

"Then what was it?"

Christian stopped his pacing and met eyes with him. His jaw tightened up, as he swallowing the lump in his throat. His voice was soft but firm. "He attacked her Sean. When we were in Vegas, he showed up and he attacked her." He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, feeling his emotions rising to the surface, but they were a mixture of emotions. His heart constricted in his chest and his mouth went dry. He felt a hollowness in his chest and a chill creep down his spine. His muscles tensed up as a rush of adreneline pulsated through his veins, much in the same way it did when you felt a desire to hit something. "That wasn't the first time he'd done it either. From what she told me, he's been abusing her her whole life. He's probably been doing it since she was..." He turned his head away as a painful recollection of his own childhood floored him.

A deep scowl came over Sean's face, his brows furrowing in concern. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. Finally, he spoke but in a gentle tone. "I'm sorry Christian, I didn't know. Have you talked to her about possibly filing a restraining order? That might be the best thing you can do for her right now, if you want to make sure she's safe."

He shook his head in discouragement. "I can't do that. If I did that, this bastard will find some way to turn her, and her mother against me." He swallowed hard, the flood gates threatening to burst open at any moment.

"What makes you say that?"

"He told me!" Christian cried audibly. "He told me that if I tried to file a restraining order against him or refused to give him his God damn surgery, he'd bad mouth me to Amy and her mother, and somehow find a way for them to see me for the prick that I am. He's got ties Sean. He's got some inside source working against me. Amy might not believe a damn word he says, but she might if she heard it from someone else." He brought both of his palms up to his forehead once again, the tears burning in his eyes.

Sean sent him another look of bewilderment. "An inside source? Who do you think it could be?"

He shook his head. "Hell if I know." He brought his hands down and stepped towards the window on the left wall, allowing the ray of sunlight to cast a warm glow against his bronze skin. "What am I going to do? I'm screwed either way I look at it. If I give this asshole his surgery, there's no guarantee he won't come after her again, and if I even try filing a restraining order, he'll screw up everything. I'll never see her again." His voice shook with emotion as he uttered his last words.

Sean crossed the room to where he was standing, setting a reassuring hand on Christian's shoulder. "I don't know Christian, but you'll figure something out. We'll figure it out together. We'll do whatever we can to make sure Amy stays your daughter...and you stay her father. Hey, we've been through tougher times together, haven't we? This isn't any different."

He sighed deeply, a single tear rolling down his cheek. As many times as Sean could snap at him about unauthorized office behavior, and lack of better judgement, it was times such as this when Christian could use an ounce of hope. When the odds were against him, he still had his partner, his best friend, and his brother, Sean. He couldn't ask for more. Except maybe to see that son of a bitch, Frank Gellar, behind bars or better yet, dead. A few more tears trickled down his cheeks, his bottom lip trembling as he fought to gain control of himself. "I can't lose her Sean. Not now and not like this." Suddenly, he found himself uttering words he never thought he would hear himself say. "I love her."

Sean managed a small smile, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "I know you do," he spoke softly, "but the best thing you can do for her now is to keep her safe. Be a father to her, the best that you can be. And if she needs a safe place to stay...she's always welcome at the McNamara house."

He shook his head, although the offer still warmed his heart. "The problem isn't finding her a safe place to stay. She's already got that. There isn't a chance in hell he'll find out where she's at, but then again, I don't know _half_ of the shit he's capable of." He exhaled sharply, bringing one of his hands up to his face, hiding his teary eyes from the sun and from his partner.

"I don't necessarily think he'll stalk her, do you?"

"Like I said, I don't know much about this asshole as it is. There's no telling what he'll do."

"If she's with you, I hardly doubt he'd try and hurt her."

His hand fell back at his side, stepping away from the window and away from Sean. He bit down on his bottom lip, supressing his frustration. All emotion was beginning to evaporate and that familiar vexation was back. His jaw tightened up, clenching his teeth together tightly. "If he even tried it, I'd kill him," he sneered.

Sean sighed softly, stealing a brief glance at his wristwatch. "Well, in regards to his surgery, which I've put on the books for Wednesday afternoon, it might not be a good idea that you operate until you're sure you can get a handle on yourself."

He knew exactly what Sean meant by those words. With the way Christian had gone off on Frank, he didn't trust that he could operate on the man without purposely harming him in some way shape or form. "I'll be fine." He pivoted on his heels and started towards the door to head back to his office. Even though he'd given him the benefit of the doubt, in all honesty, he didn't know if he _would_ be fine. He paused when he reached the door, looking back over at his partner, noticing he had rounded his desk and was tending to the disarray of things that sat on top. His brows furrowed inquisitively, forgetting for a moment if they had anymore consults scheduled for that day. "Got another appointment?"

Sean raised his eyes from the things before him. He hesitated before answering his question, but went right back to the work at hand as he did so. "I have a consult coming in at four thirty."

Christian took a step towards his desk, his brows arching expectantly. "I'll sit in then." He scoffed. "I need _something_ to help get my mind off all this drama."

Sean froze at his choice of words, which didn't seem to baffle him in the least bit, until he quickly lifted his chin and answered, a little more abruptly than Christian would have expected. "Actually, I think can handle this one on my own. That is, if you don't mind."

It didn't seem to make any sense why Sean wanted to take the consult on his own, when clearly, they had been doing most of their consults together, but if the patient had made the appointment with him instead of both of them, it was out of his hands. Although he was the tinest bit stung by it, he simply shrugged it off as nothing. "In that case, I'll be in my office," he turned back around to walk out of the room, "trying to salvage what's left of my parental life." He shook his head in disbelief, exiting the office without another word.


	30. Lies And Deception

Amy had been tossing and turning all night, debating about whether or not she should go through with her consult at all. She might not know Sean as well as Christian did, but she had a feeling that even if she did call to cancel, he wouldn't think any less of her. After all, he did seem rather hesitant when she'd called as it was. To be honest, she couldn't figure out if her restless sleep had been on account of her nerves about the whole situation or the inhalation of coke she'd taken an hour before bed, but if it was going to do nothing but keep her awake all night, she'd refrain from making the same mistake again.

On her drive over to the McNamara/Troy office, she could feel her anxiety returning stronger than ever. She went back and forth in her mind, debating whether or not to pull over on the side of the road and take care of the problem once and for all. It would probably have been a bad idea though, considering that someone might come out of nowhere and see her. They'd probably call the cops and that was something she'd rather not deal with. After parking her car around the block, she stole a glance at her reflection in the rearview mirror, took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart and finally exited the vehicle. Slinging the strap of her purse over her right shoulder, she rounded the car and stepped up onto the curb, striding along the sidewalk towards the front of the building.

It was eerie that her current nerves were reminicent of her first visit. The day she came to find her father. She had no idea what to expect. She had never, ever, considered plastic surgery before. Crossing her arms over her chest, she dropped her gaze to the ground, quickening her pace. When she reached the front of the building, she stole a glance at her watch. It was three minutes until four thirty.

Suddenly, she collided with someone heading in the opposite direction. "Oh! I'm sorry!" She bent down to grab her purse, which had slipped off her shoulder on impact, but never did she anticipate who she would end up bumping into. Replacing the strap on her shoulder, she finally brought her eyes up to the figure before her but instantly froze when she came face-to-face with her father. Her _adoptive_ father, Frank. The first thing she noticed was the damage done to his face, which she couldn't help but feel that he had deserved.

"Sorry for what? For replacing me with someone else or for that someone putting his fist in my face?" His cold eyes locked on hers, which succeeded in causing a chill to creep down her spine. "You're still my kid and I'm still your father. Not a damn thing is going to change."

She trembled involuntarily, taking a slow step back from him. Just then, something occured to her. Her eyes shifted from the door to which he had stepped out of a moment ago, then back to him. Had he just paid a visit to her real father? Her brows furrowed inquisitively, her eyes narrowing in thought. "What are you doing here?" She demanded, her voice a little louder than she had expected.

Frank rolled his eyes with a sigh. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing here? No, if you really want to know what I'm doing here," he motioned back to the door, "go ask that son of a bitch who thinks he's your father."

If she had any courage at all, she'd reach out and hit him, but after what he'd done to her already, she knew that would only make matters worse. Much worse. If she got entangled in another battle with him, it would screw up everything in a number of ways. She'd cause a scene outside her father's business that could jeopardize his career, he'd discover the reason why she was here, but worse than that, she could potentially end up having to spend the night there, assuming Frank beat her up twice as bad this time as before. "He's not a son of a bitch and he _is _my father. My _real _father. And what the hell are you talking about? I want to know." Her bafflement grew. What _was_ he talking about, and what did it have to do with Christian anyway?

Frank took a step towards her. She quickly took a step back. There was no telling what he was about to do, but she had a pretty good idea. He had probably intended to hit her. Either that or to hug her, but truth be told, she hardly thought it would be the latter.

She got up the courage to utter the next words. "Don't...touch me, please. Just don't."

He took another step towards her, a frustrated sigh escaping him. She took another step back. A scowl crossed his face. "I didn't want to hurt you, but you left me no choice. You disobeyed me."

Her heart constricted in her chest. She swallowed the huge lump that had formed in her throat. Suddenly, she felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she fought with everything inside her not to let them fall. "_I_ disobeyed you? How? I just wanted to find out who my real father was. After all you've done..." Her voice trailed off, deciding against going further with that sentence and took another step back, just incase he took it upon himself to lunge at her at the last minute.

"You already have a father. I'm your father! And I want my daughter back. I'm not going to let you disregard me like a piece of shit. Your mother kept you away from me since the divorce, but I'm not going to let her take you away. Not this time. I may not have been there for you these last few years, but that's all going to change. As soon as you learn to let this son of a bitch go." He sighed in frustration. "I've done a hell of a lot for you, but you never appreciated any of it, did you?" When she didn't reply right away, he resorted to shouting. "Did you?"

She winced at the tone of his voice, her eyes shifting back to the door of the McNamara/Troy office, praying that his voice hadn't been within hearing range of Christian, and at the same time, praying that it had. Her bottom lip trembled as the tears began streaming down her cheeks. She shook her head stiffly, her heart pounding in her chest. "No, and I'm sorry. I am. I just..." She sniffled softly, slowly bringing her eyes back up to him. "Can I just please go now? I have to go in there."

For a long moment, her words didn't seem to affect him. He simply stayed planted in the same spot, staring at her with a fiery vengeance burning in his eyes. An irritable sigh escaped him as he placed his hands on his hips. He tilted his head to one side, rolling his eyes before finally stepping out of her path. "Go."

Swallowing hard, she inched her way towards the door, quickly but cautiously. She refrained from uttering another word. The less she said to aggravate him, the better off she would be. She was ten inches from the door when the sound of his voice startled her, half-expecting him to have kept quiet. That showed how well she knew him.

"You tell that son of a bitch I'll see him on Wednesday, and if knows what's good for him, he won't fuck it up. I already warned him about what would happen if he did."

She froze at his choice of words, her brows furrowing in bafflement. All of the breath had suddenly been sucked out of her body. She felt as though she'd just been kicked in the stomach. What was he talking about? Wednesday? What was happening on Wednesday? She shuddered to think what he'd done or said to Christian, but before she had a chance to turn around and question him, he was already stalking down the sidewalk away from her. "I'll see you soon kid," he called over his shoulder.

Exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, she brought one of her hands up to her face, wiping away the tears. She sniffled softly. There was no way she could possibly go in looking like this. She probably looked like a mess, and if Christian saw her, well, there was no telling what he'd assume happened. Turning away from the door, she leaned her frame against the wall. Opening up her purse, she reached inside and fished out her hand mirror. Taking a peek at her reflection, she sighed deeply. She didn't look that bad, but her eyes were red and still fresh with tears which threatened to fall. After wiping away the excess tears, she applied some mascara and fresh eyeliner in an attempt to cover it up. If she wasn't out in the open at the moment, she would have probably taken a hit of coke to make herself feel better, but that wasn't possible.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she took a calming deep breath and squared her shoulders. Holding her head high with a presentable face, she got up the courage to finally enter the office. She didn't open the door entirely when she stepped inside though. Instead, she took the approach of peeking inside beforehand, making absolute certain that Christian wasn't anywhere in sight. Luckily, he wasn't, but the quicker she got in there and got this over with, the better chance she had of him not seeing her or even knowing she'd been there. She stole a glance at the waiting area before stepping up to the desk, surprised to see that there were no other patients waiting to be seen. Things were definitely heading in the right direction.

The petite and curvy blonde behind the desk looked up when she entered. She was clad in a pair of blue hospital scrubs, and her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The woman couldn't have been more than twenty-five. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I have an appointment with Dr. McNamara at four thirty." Her eyes shifted back and forth between the woman and the hallway.

"All right." The woman looked over an open binder on the desk before her. "Amy Gellar? Is that you?" She lifted her chin, meeting Amy's eyes once again.

She nodded quickly before her attention shifted back to the empty hallway. "Yeah, that's me. Uh, can I just go in? I know where his office is...I think."

The blonde woman gestured to the waiting area behind Amy, giving her a friendly smile. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll alert him that you're here."

She sighed wearily, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she leaned against the glass counter. "Okay, but I'm kind of in a hurry. I really need to see him as soon as possible." It was sort of pointless to say that, considering she was probably the only patient in the office at this time of day, but truth be told, she was far too nervous to think straight.

"It shouldn't take too long. Please have a seat." The woman persisted.

With a roll of her eyes, she finally pushed herself away from the counter. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. She quickly turned her head to the see who it was, and realized then that it had merely been her imagination. There was no one there, except for a couple orderlies, one male and one female, traipsing back and forth between rooms at random intervals. Without another word, she scurried towards one of the three white cushioned chairs -- which looked more like loveseats -- lowering her small frame onto it. Her leg bobbed up and down incessantly as she gripped the strap of her purse, her eyes shifting from the front desk to the hall. Her heart drummed madly in her chest as her stomach knotted up.

She felt as though she had been waiting forever, and as the seconds ticked by, the chances of Christian not finding out she was here were getting slimer and slimer. A sigh of relief escaped her when she heard Sean's voice. She lifted her chin to see him step into the waiting area.

"Good afternoon Ms. Gellar." He greeted her with a kind smile.

Him calling her by that name made her cringe. It just didn't sound right. She sprang up to her feet, giving him a small smile and slinging her purse over her right shoulder. "Troy," she corrected him. Her cheeks flushed in mortification, suddenly wondering why she had even done it at all. Then again, she was and always would be a Troy so what was so wrong with that?

Sean smiled sheepishly, nodding his head in regard. "Ms. Troy."

Suddenly getting an eerie feeling that someone was watching her, her eyes shifted in the direction of the front desk, noticing that the blonde woman was staring at her, a bewildered and slightly astonished expression on her face. Shit. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut? Why did she always have to talk so loud? As if her cheeks couldn't get any redder, they did. Bringing one of her hands up, she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. She shifted impatiently on her heels, her eyes shifting from the hallway to Sean's face. "Actually, can you just stick to calling me Amy? That would be better." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

He nodded. "Of course." He stole a glance over his shoulder before his gaze settled back on her. "Right this way." He turned on his heels, leading the way towards his office.

She quickly followed behind him, all the while, wishing he'd walk a little faster so she could slip into the comfort of his office before Christian popped into the hall. Hopefully, he was busy with other things or another patient. As disgusting and inappropriate as it seemed at the time, she'd even be thankful if he were busy screwing someone in his office. Whatever it took to keep him away. Her eyes shifted in the direction of Christian's office as they passed it, her heart skipping a beat. She was certain he would step out of it at that very second, maybe even hear audible moaning, but she saw nor heard a thing. This was just too good to be true. Where was he? Had he gone home already? No, the office was still open. Was he on break? Was he even working today?

"Amy?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, realizing now that Sean was in fact speaking to her, and that they had reached his office, which was just down the hall from Christian's own. "Huh?"

"Is everything all right?" He inquired, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Oh, yeah." She gave him a firm nod. "I'm fine. I just kind of want to get this over with before...well, you know. No offense." Her eyes shifted in the direction of her father's office.

Sean's eyes roamed in the same direction before they met each other's gaze. He shook his head. "No offense taken. Why don't you step into my office and we'll get started." He opened the door, stepping inside. She followed closely behind him, sighing an allieviated sigh when he finally shut the door and crossed to his desk. He gestured to the two chairs across from his desk. "Please have a seat."

Amy obeyed his command and scurried towards his desk, collapsing into one of the chairs and setting her purse on the one beside her. She crossed her right leg over her left, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair and looking over at him expectantly. As he sifted through some papers sitting on top of his desk, she chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. He finally found whatever forms he had been searching for, set them in front of him and lifted his chin to look up at her, folding his hands on the desk before him.

"Ms. Troy--I'm sorry, _Amy_, tell me what you don't like about yourself."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, uncrossing her legs and then crossing them once again, only this time, her left leg was crossed over her right. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she fiddling absentmindedly with her fingers. She hesitated before finally uttering softly, "my breasts." She paused, watching as Sean picked a red pen up off his desk and removed the cap, then continued as he put the pen to the paper to make a scribble. "I was thinking about...going up a size? Maybe two. Whatever you think." She shrugged her shoulders.

He froze, slowly raising his eyes up to her face. His brows stitched together in thought as he fixed his gaze on her chest, which undoubtedly caused her to flush in motification. Of course it could have been worse. It could have been Christian staring at her boobs. A soft sigh escaped him, and for a minute, she thought he was going to turn her away. Then, he gently nodded his head. "Would you mind unbuttoning your blouse? I'd like to get a better assessment before we go any further."

This time, it was her who froze. For a long moment, she didn't say or do anything. She just sat there staring at him dumbfoundedly. She knew it was inevitable that he would ask her that. How else would he be able to decide what she did or didn't need? Even if she had the surgery, he'd have to see them anyway.

"Amy, if you're that uncomfortable with it, maybe it's better you give this more thought before doing anything you might regret later." He told her simply.

She exhaled sharply. How did she not see that one coming? She shook her head stiffly. "No, I'm fine with it. Sorry." Her cheeks flushed once again as she slowly began unbuttoning her blouse, her hands trembling in the process.

Sean pushed himself up to his feet, rounding his desk. He came over to where she was seated, perching himself on the edge of his desk and once again, focused his attention on her chest, waiting patiently for her to reveal her breasts. It took her a moment to take her bra off, but when she finally did, he assessed her chest with an intent eye. She willed herself to stay still, not sure whether he was going to actually touch them but praying that he wouldn't. Her heart pounded fiercely against her chest as she forced a huge lump down in her throat. She didn't have enough courage to look up at him so she simply fixed her eyes on the fish tank that sat behind his desk.

After another minute, he brought his eyes back up to her face, sighing softly. "Look, Amy, I don't mean to discourage you from considering plastic surgery, but I think your breasts are fine the way they are. The symmetry is excellent, the sloping is natural. At your age, they are exactly where they should be."

She turned her head away with a roll of her eyes. After slipping her bra back on, she swiftly buttoned up her blouse. Why had she even come here at all? For him to waste her time and tell her she was fine? Well, if she _was_ fine, why didn't she feel like it? She dropped her gaze to her lap, a weary sigh escaping her. "I still want them," she spoke in a meek tone of voice. Stealing a glance up at him, she saw him drop back down in the chair behind his desk.

He folded his hands on top of the desk, his features turning somber. "I really think you should try speaking to Christian about this. As I said before, there's still a possibility that he'll find out about it. Maybe not right away, but eventually, you'll have to tell him. Once he looks over our roster, he'll see scheduled you for surgery. In all honesty, I don't think either one of us should be putting our relationship with him in jeopardy by keeping something as serious as this from him."

He was right. Damn it! He was right! Why did he have to be right? Still, she hadn't gotten this far just to be turned away. She sat back in her seat, propping one of her elbows up on the arm of the chair and leaning her cheek on her hand. "Isn't there some way around this? I mean, I'm over eighteen for God's sakes. It's not like it's going to kill me. I just don't want him to know about this. If I got them done and he ever were to ask..." Her voice trailed off, not quite sure where that sentence was even going. There wasn't a right answer to that.

Sean gazed at her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to finish what she was saying. When she didn't, he spoke. "If you don't mind me asking, Amy, what made you consider getting your breasts done?"

She looked back down at her lap, fiddling absentmindedly with a loose string on her dark denim jeans. Chewing on her bottom lip, she shrugged. "I don't know. I just want to be different. I haven't been able to make my own decisions in a long time, and now, I finally feel free to do that. I've moved out of my mom's house and now I want to finally be independent. Plus, I've always thought about changing my body. I'm not exactly happy with it."

He scowled. "Well, there are other alternatives to changing your body without going to the extremes of surgery. If you're dissatisfied with your breast size, perhaps you could consider wearing a different bra. Physical fitness, although its a long-term solution, also works for most people. Have you thought about that?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "That's not going to work." She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice. "Hey, what Christian doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"

His features remained somber, and from what it seemed, he looked to be contemplating her words. Maybe fighting with his conscience at the same time. "Well, in the off chance that I agree to give you your surgery, how exactly do you plan on paying for it? The single procedure alone will cost in itself around seven thousand dollars."

Her eyes widened in astoundment. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why did he have to continue throwing stones in her path? This was getting harder and harder. "Well..." She began, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip.

"Do you have a job?"

"Well...not really. Not yet anyway. I thought maybe..." She shook her head, knowing full well how stupid it was to even consider it, "nevermind."

Sean's brows stitched together inquisitively. "What were you thinking? Please, tell me."

She dropped her gaze to her lap once again, "nothing. It was stupid." She exhaled sharply. "I just thought that maybe...I could have Christian pay for it, but that would mean that I'd actually have to tell him so see, that wouldn't work."

He gently nodded his head in understanding. "Then how do you plan on paying for your procedure?" She opened her mouth to say something, even if she had no idea what, but he held up a hand to stop her. "Before you make any other suggestions, I just want you to know that we only take on pro bono work if it's life threatening, which, in your case, I don't think it is."

She wasn't quite sure what the definition of "pro bono" was, but she had somewhat of an idea. Either way, this whole thing was getting her nowhere. She didn't possibly have an answer to his question, and the longer this went on, the more time she was wasting. Especially on something that was already a lost cause. She grabbed her purse off the chair beside her and sprang up to her feet. A scoff escaped her lips as she slipped the strap of her purse onto her right shoulder. "You know what? Just forget it. Just forget the whole thing. This was a waste of my time anyway." She whirled around on her heels and marched towards the door.

Sean sighed deeply, watching as she moved across his office. "I'm sorry Amy, but maybe after you've talked it over with Christian, we could work something out."

She shook her head vigorously, waving her hand in the air in disregard. "I said forget it!" She was in such a rush to get out of there that the moment she stepped into the hall, she slammed into someone heading in the opposite direction. "Oh! God, I'm sorry!" Boy, she was just bumping into everyone today, wasn't she? Fantastic. Sarcastically speaking, she didn't realize just how fantastic it was until two familiar looking hands came out to steady her, preventing her from falling over. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she looked up, coming face-to-face with none other than Christian.

His expression was a mix of bewilderment and pleasure. "Amy. What are you doing here, sweetheart?"

Her eyes widened in astonishment. Great, great, great, great, great. She had been trying so hard to avoid her father, and now it had come back to bite her in the ass. Her cheeks flushed as she stammered a reply. "I--I came here to visit your partner Sean." Okay, so she'd gone with the first thing that had come into her head, but she couldn't tell him the truth. She stole a glance over her shoulder, peering back into the office where Sean was now on his feet, standing beside his desk with a perplexed look on his face. "I just thought it would be nice to get to know him a little better."

Christian exchanged a look with Sean before he met eyes with Amy. He smirked down at her, nodding his head in regard. "Well, not that I don't appreciate you stopping by sweetheart, but couldn't you have picked a time outside of business hours?"

Her brows furrowed incriminatingly before a scowl crossed her face. She knew that her reason probably came as a longshot to him, but she hadn't stopped to consider that. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Sorry, I probably should have." Something suddenly occured to her and now that he was standing before her, she might as well take the opportunity to get her facts straight. She opened her mouth to continue when Sean's voice sounded.

"Amy wasn't bothering me, Christian. In fact, I don't mind giving her a few minutes of my time. She is after all your daughter."

Amy exuded an allieviated sigh as Christian nodded his head at his partner's words. She almost thought Sean was about to rat her out. She exchanged a look with her father, giving him as innocent of a look as she could muster. Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, she stole another glance over her shoulder, noticing that Sean was still standing there in the doorway of his office. She looked intently back at Christian, "I need to ask you something."

He looked from Amy to Sean then back to Amy. "What is it?"

Her eyes shifted expectantly towards Sean. He seemed to get the message without her having to speak a word. His brows arched in surprise, looking between the pair, "I'm sorry. Excuse me." He turned around and stepped back inside his office, shutting the door behind him to give them their privacy.

Both she and Christian watched Sean depart. Bringing her eyes back up to his, she noticed the expectant and somewhat questioning look on his face. Was he actually suspicious of her for being here? She didn't read minds but at the moment, she wished she could. After taking a quick glance around the hallway to make sure no one was listening in, she began. "Why was my--" She exhaled sharply. "Why was Frank here?"

His brows furrowed inquisitively. "Frank?"

"My adoptive father. Why was he here?"

"How did you know he was even here?"

"I ran into him outside."

His eyes roamed over her figure for a moment, scrutinizing almost every part of her exposed skin before bringing his eyes back up to hers. "Did he hurt you?" He spoke softly, a hint of vexation gleaming in his pupils.

She was touched that he cared about her well being, but that probably had more to do with his role as a father than a doctor. She shook her head. "No, but I thought he was going to. Look, I just want to know, why would he even come here? What did he say to you? What did he do? I asked _him_ but he wouldn't tell me shit."

Christian exuded a deep sigh, a scowl appearing on his face. He brushed aside the fabric of his lab coat, planting his hands firmly on his hips. He took a quick glance in either direction of the hall just as she had. Focusing his attention on her once again, he lowered his voice to a tone that only she would hear. "He came here because I agreed I'd give him a nose job and a face lift, pro bono." She opened her mouth to snap at him, but he waved his hand in the air to stop her, "before you say anything, I'll have you know that this wasn't _my_ idea. I wouldn't offer that asshole shit and we both know it, but since he's chosen to blackmail me into giving him his God damn surgery, I don't really have much of a choice but to give him what he wants. I just hope that he has enough sense to stay the hell away from us once its over."

She blinked back her astonishment. "What!" The nerve of that asshole! Could he possibly mess her life up anymore than he already had? She shook her head in disbelief. "Why is he doing this to me? To us?" She cried audibly.

He glanced briefly around the hall. "Can you keep your voice down sweetheart?" His eyes settled back on her face. "Look, I know you're just as pissed about this as I am, but I don't want the whole God damn world to know about it."

She scowled. "Sorry." She really needed to work on speaking in a normal tone of voice. This was the second time today she'd spoken too loudly, without even realizing it. It left her wondering once again...was this a trait she inherited from him? Her brows furrowed in consideration. "Wait, he's blackmailing you? How? What did he say he was going to do?"

For a long moment, all he did was stare at her, his face expressionless. Finally, he turned his head away and scoffed. He cleared his throat with a roll of his eyes. He met eyes with her for a split second before dropping his gaze to his feet. "He told me he would sue Troy/McNamara for every penny we have, unless I fixed the damage I'd done to his face." He sighed wearily, bringing his eyes back to her face, "the face lift was just an added bonus. I guess he figured since he already had the upper hand, he'd take full advantage of it."

She shook her head once again. "Asshole," she grumbled. As much as she tried to ignore it, something didn't quite add up here. Her eyes narrowed in thought, studying Christian's face for a moment. "Is that all he said he'd do?"

His brows stitched together incriminatingly, the tone of his voice becoming more audible with his next words. "What? You think I'm lying to you?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know. I just think he would have said he'd do more than that. He didn't say he'd hurt you or me in some way?"

"He told me he would sue our asses off, that was it. He didn't really say much beyond that point, except for a few derogatory words, which I'm sure you don't want to hear." This time it was his eyes that narrowed, much in the same incriminating manner as his brows had, "do you really think I'd make this shit up for kicks? Why else do you think he was here? He sure as hell didn't come over to share a drink with me in a weak attempt to make amends." He scoffed, averting his eyes to something else other than her face.

She sighed a frustrated sigh. "No! I'm not saying you made it up. I believe you! I just thought there was more to it than that." He was acting defensive and out of sorts even for him. Then again, she hadn't really known him that long but whatever was prompting him to act like this...she didn't like it.

"What more do you want to know? I already told you everything, but while we're on the topic at hand, was there _more_ of a reason why you chose to stop by today?" He arched his brows expectantly, awaiting her reply. "If you wanted to get to know Sean, you could have at least called me before to let me know you were coming in. Did you even think to do that?"

Amy blinked back her astonishment. Was he actually serious? What was wrong with him anyway? "What's wrong with you?" She demanded. Stealing a glance around the hallway, she leaned in a little closer to him, lowering her tone of voice. "Why are you acting like this?"

A look of bewilderment crossed his face, almost as if his change of behavior was oblivious to him. "Like what?"

Her heart constricted in her chest at the spiteful tone of his voice. A tone she hadn't heard out of him since they'd first met. She bit down on her bottom lip, holding back emotions that were already rising to the surface. "You're being defensive with me, and the tone of your voice..." She shook her head, looking down at her feet. "Nevermind. Forget it." A single tear managed escaped the corner of her eye. She didn't need to deal with this.

Christian sighed deeply, his hands falling back at his sides. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." The spitefulness that was in his voice before had evaporated, and he genuinely sounded as if he was sorry. It still didn't make it any easier to look up at him.

She wiped away the tear the moment it trickled down her cheek. Inhaling deeply, she raised her chin up but refrained from making direct eye contact with him. "Forget it. I should just go. I really shouldn't have even come by to begin with." She adjusted the strap of her purse, pulling it higher up on her shoulder. In an effort to keep herself from looking at him, she unzipped it, and reached inside to fish out her car keys. When he didn't utter another word, she finally found herself looking up into his face.

He scowled at her, taking in a deep breath and exhaling sharply. He pursed his lips together with a shake of his head. "It's not you, it's me. I've had to deal with way too much shit today. I shouldn't be taking it out on you."

She nodded her head gently. "Still, I really should go. I'll talk to you later I guess." Without another word, she brushed past him, striding towards the front of the office. She was half-way to the door when he called out to her. Stopping in her tracks, she slowly rotated around on her heels to see him heading back in her direction.

"You're welcome to stay if you like. The office will be closing soon, and I don't think we have any other appointments scheduled for today anyway. You can stay and visit some more with Sean, and maybe we could grab a bite to eat on the way home."

She bit the inside of her cheek. It did sound tempting, but she ultimately found herself shaking her head. "No, that's okay. Thank you for offering though, but I got some stuff I have to do back at home. I still haven't finished unpacking all my stuff so I have to do that." She began inching towards the door on her heels. "I'll see you later though, okay?"

He hesitated before nodding his head in approval, turning his head to look off to his left. "Sure."

She sighed softly, taking one last look at him before whirling back around and exiting the office. As tempted as she had been to stay, it wasn't a good idea. Even though he'd already found out she was there, staying any longer might in fact be much worse. She couldn't possibly risk him finding out that she had lied to him, and suddenly discover the real truth as to why she had stopped by. If he didn't hear it from Sean, he'd probably hear it from someone else. As far as she was concerned, she'd gotten off pretty lucky, considering the small tiff they'd gotten into. However, when she least expected it, things could just as easily blow up in her face. She wasn't going to get her hopes up.

After all, the day wasn't over yet.


	31. Disturbing Behavior

Christian watched his daughter depart, still not entirely sure what had just happened between them. Although he'd lied to her about what Frank had actually told him, he couldn't help but be defensive with her. If she found out what the man had actually blackmailed him with, that would mean he'd have to explain himself...extensively, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to bring up the more shocking bits and pieces of his past. At least not yet. It just wasn't the right time for it, and he sure didn't want another arguement to break out between them. Once was enough for today.

Exhaling sharply, he pivoted on his heels and stepped towards the front desk. In an attempt to push the day's drama out of his mind, he figured he might as well get back to work. Had there been an attractive female in the office at the time, he might have solved the problem by having himself a quick screw, but unfortunetly for him, there wasn't. Reaching over the desk, he grabbed the appointment book and set it before him, scanning over the potential clients scheduled for that particular day. His brows furrowed inquisitively, his eyes locking on the name of the client scheduled for four thirty: _Amy Gellar_. At first he thought he was seeing things, but as he looked closer, he realized it was real. His own daughter had made an appointment?

His jaw hung open in astoundment. His own daughter had made an appointment! He lifted his gaze from the book, staring dumbfoundedly at the back wall, trying mercilessly to figure out exactly why she was on their appointment sheet. Hadn't she told him she was there to visit Sean? If she was telling him the honest truth, then why would she need to make an appointment for that reason? It didn't make any sense. His jaw tightened up as he exuded a heavy sigh. Lifting the book from the counter, he turned away from the desk and marched in the direction of Sean's office. Not bothering to knock, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Sean was still seated at his desk, but he was in the middle of a phone call. "We need to talk."

Sean looked up at Christian, continuing his conversation with the person on the other line. "Hang on, he just walked in." He took the reciever away from his ear and held it up. "Matt's on the phone. He wants to talk to you."

Christian sighed wearily as he crossed to his partner's desk. Taking the phone, he held it to his ear. "What is it Matty?"

"Hey man. I been trying to reach you for days but you haven't returned my calls."

He paused for a moment, a scowl crossing his face. Lately, he'd been doing that a lot lately. Not only with Kimber, but with Matt as well. What was the matter with him? Was his new daughter taking up too much of his time that he'd forgotten everyone? Even Matt? "I'm sorry buddy. Things have been a little hectic lately. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I could use your advice on that girlfriend problem of mine. Things haven't been going too well. I thought we were hitting it off, but she doesn't seem to want to be intimate with me anymore, and if she does, all we do is make-out. I can't even make it to third base with her. What am I doing wrong man?"

Christian exchanged a look with his partner, exhaling sharply before speaking into the reciever. "Can we discuss this later Matty?" Now was definitely not the time or place to discuss that sort of thing. Especially with Sean within hearing range. Not that he hadn't scolded Christian before about his less than stellar influence on his son, but he didn't exactly feel like discussing the matter with Sean breathing down his neck. This was a conversation best held in private.

"Are you actually going to call me back this time?"

"Yes. I'll give you a call later on tonight, all right? I promise."

"All right man. I guess I'll talk to you later then."

After he and Matt exchanged good-byes, he set the phone back on its base, sighed softly and turned his attention back on Sean. "Amy didn't come in today to visit you, did she?" He stared intently back at his partner, his brows arching expectantly, waiting for an explaination.

Sean sighed softly before raising his eyes to Christian's face. He shook his head. "No. She came in for a consult."

His brows furrowed in bafflement as he dropped the appointment book on the desk. Brushing the fabric of his lab coat aside, he planted his hands firmly on his hips. "A consult? What the hell for?"

Sean shifted in his chair, a scowl crossing his face. "She was considering getting her breasts done, but in my opinion, they look fine just the way they are. Unfortunetly, she didn't seem to think so."

"Jesus, what the hell was she thinking?" He turned away from the desk, taking a few steps towards the center of the room. This was crazy. He had his suspicions about why she'd really been there, but this was nowhere on the list. He shook his head in disbelief. Things were just getting weirder and weirder as the day went on.

"I suggested she talk to you about this the day she made the appointment, but she told me she wasn't comfortable doing that, which I assume is the reason she came to me instead."

He exhaled sharply with a roll of his eyes before turning back to Sean. "It makes sense. Any other girl her age, would find it too God damn weird for her own father to give her a tit job, let alone look at them." His forehead wrinkled in thought, "did she say why she wanted it?"

"She conveyed a need to be independent, different. She feels she's finally free to make her own decisions. Despite my alternative suggestions, she seems to think that plastic surgery is the only way to do it."

He scoffed, biting down on his bottom lip. His jaw tightened up as did the rest of the muscles in his body. He began pacing back and forth, but more in an effort to shake off the aggravation that pulsated through his veins at the moment. "This doesn't make any sense. Getting a God damn tit job isn't the way she should be liberating herself. There has to be some other reason why she wants it so badly."

Sean nodded his head gently. "Maybe there is." His brows furrowed in thought. He sat there in silence for a moment as Christian continued his pacing. Finally, his partner spoke up. "Do you think it has something to do with her foster father?"

Both of his hands clenched into fists, his pacing turning into a menacing gait as he traipsed from one side of the office to the other. A low growl escaped his throat. "She wouldn't go to the extremes of plastic surgery because of one abusive asshole. I could understand if she looked like him, but she wants a _tit job_, Sean. This doesn't have a damn thing to do with him. There's something else going on, and if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to find out exactly what the hell it is."

"She did mention that she wasn't happy with her appearance. Look Christian, I'm not trying to play devil's advocate here, but did you ever consider that this change might have been brought on by you?"

He halted his pacing and turned to face Sean once again. A deep sigh escaped him, narrowing his eyes incriminatingly on the other man. The tone of his voice escalated with his next words. "What are you trying to say Sean? Are you saying this is my fault? That I've somehow corrupted my own God damn daughter?" He would never openly admit it to anyone, even himself, and he didn't even want to consider it to be a possibility in all this, but deep down, he had a bad feeling that maybe he had. "I've only known her a little over a week and I'm doing a hell of a job trying to be a good father. You really think that in that short span of time, I would put an idea like this in her head?"

"I'm not saying you've corrupted her, Christian, or that this is your fault, but considering that we're both plastic surgeons and her current need is to be independent, maybe she felt it was the right time."

He scoffed, placing his hands back on his hips. "The right time for what?"

Sean pushed himself up to his feet, starting across the room towards Christian. "To change her appearance. To take care of those imperfections on her body that she never could." He stopped a couple feet away from him, placing his own hands on his hips. "Maybe her mother was against the idea of plastic surgery, but after discovering you were her father, in addition to moving out, she probably feels she has no limitations. That she has the right to make her own decisions without parental restrictions. Sounds to me like you need to start setting some ground rules for your daughter."

He didn't know quite how to respond to that, but in a way, he knew that Sean was right. This was completely different than his past parental duty to Wilbur. He exuded a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. "Well in the instance that I do that, I can't keep her on a God damn leash her whole life Sean. She's nineteen, that makes her a consenting adult."

"No one is saying that you have to Christian, but she's still your daughter and its still in your duty to set a good example for her." Sean sighed softly, stepping closer to him. After a brief pause, he continued. "Look, if it's all right with you and she wants it that badly, I'll do her surgery for her, pro bono."

He shook his head. "Oh like hell you will. She doesn't need this operation. What she needs is to start discussing this shit with me, not with you. I'm her father. If she's got a problem, she should be coming to _me_." His brows furrowed in thought. "Why the hell didn't you tell me the day she made the appointment?"

"She didn't want you to know, which is why she advised me not to tell you."

He took in a breath to calm himself, biting back his growing frustration. "She advised you not to tell me, but did you stop to consider which one of us is your best friend? You should have told me Sean! She's my God damn daughter. I have every right to know about this kind of shit." He exhaled sharply, beginning to pace back and forth once again. His muscles were rigid as he stalked from one side of the room to the other. Sarcastically speaking, this day was just getting better and better.

Sean sighed wearily. "I'm sorry Christian, but I was hoping she would have brought the issue up _before_ her consultation."

"Well she didn't! At least not to me."

"Even if I scheduled her for surgery, we both know you would have found out eventually."

A low growl escaped his throat, coming to a halt a few inches away from his partner. "Do me a favor Sean. The next time my daughter comes to you with a problem, you come straight to me and I'll handle it myself!" Without giving him the chance to reply, Christian whirled around on his heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Amy was on her way home to her apartment, having gotten only two miles away from the McNamara/Troy building when her celluar began ringing. She reached out to lower the volume on the radio shortly after Pat Benatar's hit, "Heartbreaker" came on, and reached inside her purse for the device. Expecting to see Christian's number, she was somewhat surprised to see a different number. It was vaguely familiar, but at the moment, she couldn't for the life of her figure out exactly who it was. As she flipped open the celluar to answer it, she made a mental note in her head to update her contacts list. "Hello?"

"Hi Amy! It's Kimber."

Well she sure didn't see that one coming. "Oh! Hi Kimber." She tried as she might to sound friendly but failed.

"I'm sorry, did I call you at a bad time?" Kimber inquired in the most innocent voice possible.

Amy brought her free hand up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. With a clear of her throat, she shook her head, even though she knew Kimber couldn't see her. "Oh, no. I'm just driving right now, that's all. I can still talk. What's up?"

"I was just wondering, do you have any plans for the rest of the day?"

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "Um, no. I don't think so. Why?"

"Well, I know this is kind of short notice, but what do you say to a make-over and spa day? I know this great little place on Collins Avenue that we can go, and after all that's happened, I think we both deserve a little pampering, don't you?"

She hesitated for a moment, contemplating the idea until finally uttering a reply. "Sure, yeah. That sounds good. I guess we could do that."

"Great! Well in that case, I'll meet you at the Le Spa in five minutes. I'm right across the street right now just doing some shopping so it shouldn't take me too long."

"All right, but I'll need directions."

"Oh sure, no problem."

She stayed on the phone with Kimber for the next few minutes as she steered her in the right direction, taking the designated streets and turns until she found the corner building. The sign outside reading "Le Spa" told her she was in the right place. After thanking Kimber for helping her in finding the place, she hung up and parked in the parking lot across the street. The mention of a spa day had her recalling back to that day at the hospital. The day that she and Christian had gone in for that paternity test. He'd made a remark about how she needed to loosen up a little more and then offered her a business card for a spa. They weren't exactly on the best terms at that time, which is why she had refused, but now that Kimber was offering, it didn't sound like a bad idea.

She was just about to exit the car and head over to the spa, but a sudden craving caused her to hesitate. That same craving she'd gotten on her way to her consult, and shortly after she'd left. Now might not have been the most appropriate time for it, but no one was around anyway, and after all that happened back at the McNamara/Troy office, she needed to clear her head. That way she could allow herself to fully relax while in the spa. Taking a quick glance around the half empty parking lot, she then turned towards her purse, reaching inside and slipping out the small white envelope Kimber had given her. She shook out a dime size amount of the substance on the arm rest between both seats. After arranging the powder into a straight line, she took out a short plastic straw, held it to one nostril and leaned in to take a quick inhalation. She repeated the process with the other nostril until the powder she'd arranged was gone.

Bringing her free hand up, she wiped any traces of the powder from her nostrils and zipped her purse back up, quickly exiting the vehicle. The high that she'd gotten the day before was already starting to swirl around her head, which caused her to stumble when she stepped out. She wavered on her heels, finding herself grabbing onto the car as a wave of dizziness passed over her. The parking lot around her tipped and turned, and suddenly she felt as though she would be sick. She willed herself to lean her back against the vehicle for a moment and shut her eyes, praying that the nausea in her belly would subside along with the dizziness.

How the hell was she going to make it across the street like this? She exhaled sharply, wishing she had only taken one inhalation. It wouldn't have been as bad, right? When she'd taken it the day before after her phone call with Sean, she'd felt a bit tipsy but she'd recovered fairly well. Why was she feeling more of it now? Beads of sweat broke out at her temples as she felt her heart began to pound in her chest. She took in a deep breath to try and calm down, and after another moment, cautiously opened up her eyes. Slowly, she pushed herself away from the car, slinging the strap of her purse over her right shoulder and starting towards the spa. The dizziness was still looming over her head, but she knew she would feel better once she was inside and sitting down. She just had to remind herself of that, even as she scurried across the street, praying that she didn't look drunk to the people around her because she could barely walk straight.

An allieviated sigh escaped her when she finally reached the spa. To her, it had seemed to have taken an eternity but still, she'd made it there. That was the important part. Luckily, Kimber was already waiting inside for her when she entered the building. She was conversing with a petite woman with brown hair, who, was dressed entirely in a white uniform. The woman's hair was pulled back and out of her face, scooped up into a black hair clip. Taking a quick look around, Amy noticed that the front room was done entirely in white. Brand name, Lancome products lined the walls: body oils, lotions, perfumes, hair gels, make-up, everything you could possibly imagine. There were a few pampering stations set in the center of the room, each with different products for customers to try out.

"Amy! You made it."

She quickly turned her head upon hearing Kimber's cheery voice. She smirked, nodding her head vigorously as the blonde turned away from the woman and came up to her. "Yeah, I did. Sorry it took me so long to get here, but I never been in this part of town I guess. How long have you been here? Have you been waiting a long time?" Brushing a few loose strands of hair that had matted themselves to her forehead, she found herself boucing restlessly on the balls of her feet.

"That's okay, and I actually just got here a few minutes ago." Kimber gave her a quick once over, her brows furrowing inquisitively as she gazed at her intently. "Are you okay?"

Amy nodded her head quickly, sighing softly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just excited, that's all. I never been to a spa before. My friends never treated me to a spa day so this should be fun." She laughed lightly, bringing her hand up to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead.

"Great!" Kimber beamed, wrapping her arm around Amy's shoulders. "Well, if this is your first time to a spa, you are just going to love this place. I come here all the time and honey, you are going to be in heaven. I called ahead for an appointment so we could do it today, my treat."

She smirked. "Thanks! That's really nice of you. What are we going to do first? You said a make-over and what else? Do I get my hair and make-up done?"

"Of course! You are going to look amazing by the time we're done. You should go with 'The Perfect Diva' package. It includes a thirty minute massage, a thirty minute facial, manicure, pedicure, and make-up application. I'll pay extra for the hair, don't even worry about it." Kimber's arm came away from her shoulders, turning to face her once again. "So, what do you think?"

Amy smiled brightly and nodded. "It sounds great. I actually like the sound of that package, and thanks again, but you really didn't have to do this." Feeling the sweat continue to build up at her temples and forehead, she wiped it away again with the back of her hand and sighed.

Kimber wrapped her arm around her shoulders once again, leading her towards the back of the room to a doorway where a white curtain hung, seperating the front room from the back rooms of the spa itself where the rest of the services were conducted. "Sweetie, I told you this was my treat, now relax because the next couple of hours are going to be heaven." She gave her arm a little squeeze as they neared closer to their destination. "First thing's first, we have to get changed. Then, let the pampering begin." She exchanged a smile with Amy as the two disappeared into one of the back rooms to do just that.

About an hour later, after the two had gone through their massages and facials, they entered another room where they sat side by side, and began getting their manicures. Amy had to admit, she'd never felt better than she did at that very moment. Suddenly, she had not a care in the world. Not Christian. Not her adoptive father. Not a thing. A content sigh escaped her as she allowed the hispanic woman across from her to file her nails. "You were right Kimber, this place is great."

Kimber turned her head and looked over at her, flashing her a bright smile. "What did I tell you? This place is heaven." She tilted her head to one side, looking intently at her. "Have you thought about what you're going to do to your hair, sweetie?"

She shook her head. "No, not really, why?"

Kimber's smile remained plastered on her face. "Well, I have an idea. It might sound crazy, but as long as you trust me, you are going to look incredible."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "What kind of idea are you talking about?" To be honest, she wasn't sure if she _did_ trust Kimber. Sure, they were friends, but there was no telling what she'd do to her if she had the advantage. She remembered her father's word clearly, but then again, Kimber hadn't been anything but nice to her since they'd met. It was a tough call.

"The kind of idea that will have all the boys turning their heads when you walk into a room. I'm talking about a whole new look, and you know what they say, blondes do have more fun."

A smirk crossed her face. "Do you really think I'd look good as a blonde?"

Kimber gave her a smirk of her own. "Absolutely."

Suddenly, she found herself nodding her head. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, "okay, what the hell. I'll do it! Besides, I'm starting to get sick of my hair color anyway." A light laugh escaped her. "I've actually been thinking a lot about changing it. Either like a chesnut brown or blonde, but I think blonde would be better. It would definitely help me to get a boyfriend, because it seems like all the other blonde skanks at my school are getting them. Oh, no offense to you." She scowled, realizing she might have in fact offended Kimber with her choice of words.

Kimber shook her head, shrugging her words off. "None taken honey. I've been there once myself."

She nodded her head in regard, glancing down to observe the work the woman across from her was doing on her nails. A woeful sigh escaped her. "So I guess I'm going to have to cross getting implants off my list of things to do, or even consider." She exhaled sharply with a roll of her eyes.

Kimber's brows stitched together in question. "Why? Did something happen between you and Christian? Did you talk to him about it? You didn't tell him it was _my_ idea, did you?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh God no! I already told you I couldn't talk to him about it. That would be far too weird." She sighed deeply. "See, after yesterday when you suggested me getting them done, I made an appointment with Sean. I went in for my consult today, but he told me I didn't need them. I didn't know whether to be offended by it or not, but mostly, I am." She rolled her eyes dramatically.

Kimber scowled. "That's odd. I would have thought Sean would at least be a little more understanding about it." She sighed softly. "But, need I remind you that you are Christian's daughter sweetie, and considering how long I've known him, he and Sean are--"

"Best friends, I know." She sighed deeply, looking down at her hands. "I've heard it from practically everyone. I know how close they are, but it just really pisses me off that I can't even be free to make my own decisions. Sean acted like he understood, but he doesn't. He wanted me to talk to Christian about it. Yeah right, like I'd even be able to do that. It was hard enough trying to keep it from him when I bumped into him back at the office." She brought one of her hands up to her forehead, then realized that she had just disrupted the techinician's work. After a rather awkward apology, she quickly put her hand back in its original spot.

Kimber sent Amy a sympathetic look just before informing the tall, red haired and freckled Caucasian woman sitting across from her what color polish she wanted. She turned back to the young girl beside her with a small smile. "Well, maybe you should reconsider talking to him about it. It couldn't hurt."

She blinked back her astoundment. "To Christian?"

"Yeah. Hey, when you called him in Vegas and told him you wanted to be with him, did he turn you down?"

She shook her head. "No, but that was different. I made up some lie and told him I was sick." Kimber stared intently at her, arching one of her brows as a wry smile crossed her face. It took Amy a moment to catch on to what Kimber was suggesting. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! No, I can't lie like that again. What am I supposed to say? I need a boob job because I want guys to like me?"

"Well no, you don't have to use those words exactly, but you might try explaining to him how much better it would make you feel, physically and mentally if you got them done. Just try being honest with him about it. The worst thing he can do is say 'no.' It would be better if he heard it from you as opposed to hearing it from Sean, don't you think?"

She nodded her head firmly. "Definitely." Her eyes widened in horror, "oh my God. You don't think he already found out about it, do you?"

Kimber pursed her lips and sighed softly. "It's hard to say sweetie, but I don't think Sean will say anything. He's more morally inclined to privacy than Christian is, and there is that whole doctor/patient confidentiality clause."

An allieviated sigh escaped her. "Okay, that helps. I feel a little bit better now. Thanks." The hispanic woman across from her informed her she was done filing her nails, and questioned her which color polish she wanted for her nails, to which she answered, pink, and the woman went back to work.

"Don't worry. Assuming that Christian hasn't found out about it on his own, you shouldn't even worry about Sean."

She chewed anxiously on her bottom lip, praying that Kimber was right, and that she hadn't already aroused too much curiosity. Trying mercilessly to push her concerns aside for the time being, there was one thing that was still plaguing her. Clearing her throat rather uncomfortably, she leaned in towards Kimber, lowering her tone of voice. "Hey...about the...you know. Are you sure Christian won't find out about it? I mean, even _I'm _beginning to feel a little guilty about it."

"He won't hear it from me. As long as you don't throw it in his face, it'll be our little secret. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" She sighed deeply. "It might come as a surprise but at one time, even _he_ was doing it."

Her jaw dropped as her eyes widened in horror once again. "He was? Oh my God, seriously?"

Kimber scoffed with a shake of her head. "Honey, please, would you even put it past him? As much of an asshole as he can be, there are some things about him that don't seem to surprise you. Except of course for the better parts of him that we rarely tend to see. Unless of course you're alone with him that is."

She cringed, her stomach turning all of a sudden. "Please don't talk about his sex life. I think I know enough to not want to hear anymore."

"I could go on and on about his sex life, but seeing as how he's your father, I'll spare you the details."

Amy was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally got up the nerve to pose her question. "Just how much _do _you know about Christian?" If Kimber knew Christian as well as she said she did, Amy might as well take advantage of all this new information while she could. It might work in her favor in the future. "I mean, I'm sure there's certain 'things' he wants to keep secret."

"What do you want to know?" Kimber's brows arched expectantly.

"Well...is he the type to manipulate someone, especially if that someone is..." She swallowed the huge lump that had formed in her throat, her heart skipping a beat as she did so. It took her a moment to finally utter the words, "close to him?"

Kimber turned to look over at the anxious girl. "I don't mean to break your heart honey, but you can never be sure what he'll do, or what he's truly capable of. I wouldn't worry too much about it though, being in your position. The chances of him sleeping with you and throwing you out are slim, about as slim as hell freezing over."

Amy found herself cringing once again at the disturbing mental picture. "Uh...thanks, I think."

"As long as he hasn't started eyeing one of your best girl friends, you don't have to worry."

She blinked back her astonishment, the realization dawning on her. Courtney! It was bad enough that her friend was already harboring feelings for her father, but hadn't Christian said something about liking her too? How two different people could develop an attraction to each other before meeting, was beyond Amy's comprehension. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she exuded a deep sigh. "Oh no," she grumbled.

Kimber swiftly turned her head in her direction. "What's wrong?"

She scowled. "I think it's time I should worry."

* * *

Christian paced incessantly back and forth in his living room, celluar phone held to his ear as he waited impatiently for his daughter to answer her own. A frustrated sigh escaped him, listening to it ring a few times before her voicemail picked up. The same voicemail he'd gotten about a hundred times already. "God damn it," he muttered to himself, bringing the celluar away from his ear and ending the call.

Over the last few hours, he'd gotten the chance to let off some steam after his stressful day at work. Shortly after he'd gotten home, he'd been tempted to have himself a screw and work off the aggression built up inside him, but decided against it at the last minute. He couldn't believe that after all this time, he had even been desperate enough to call up Kimber and offer her a night of steamy sex, if only to make amends for the way he'd treated her the day before. Unfortunetly, she hadn't answered her celluar either.

There was definitely something strange going on, but what, he did not know. One thing was for sure, after the startling events of the day, it was time he and his daughter sit down and have a talk. It was time she start being honest with him, and it was time he confront her about this sudden rebellious nature of hers...before things got any worse. He stole a glance at the clock on his cell which read: _8:15_. Where the hell could she be at eight fifteen on a Tuesday night? He sighed irritably before dialing her number again. This time, he tried her apartment number, for the third time in the past hour. It rang once. Twice. Three times. He was ready to hang up again when suddenly, she answered, a bit breathlessly.

"Hello?"

He exhaled sharply, whirling back around on his heels and starting in the opposite direction. "Well it's about time you answered. I've been trying to get a hold of you for an hour now, sweetheart. Where the hell have you been?"

There was a pause on her end before she uttered a reply. "I just got home. I've been out practically all day. I'm sorry, I didn't really think it would be that big of a deal."

He was tempted to confront her about the situation with Sean at that moment, but decided it would be better done face-to-face instead of through the phone. He couldn't hold back the scoff the escaped him. "Forget it. Look, we need to talk. I ordered out some seafood. Why don't you come over and share it with me. I know how much you like the stuff."

"Um...yeah. Okay, that sounds good. I'll uh...be right over."

He was a bit inquisitive about the hesitant sound of her voice, but didn't think too much of it. They exchanged good-byes and he ended the call. Flipping his celluar closed, he slipped it back into his pocket and strolled towards the door. He waited a minute or two to see if he heard her coming. Upon hearing the door down the hall close, he waited for her to knock before taking a step back and opening the door. However, nothing prepared him for what he saw next. His brows furrowed inquisitively, blinking back his astonishment.

For a moment, he couldn't figure out if it was even Amy at all. Her hair was no longer the color of auburn. It was bleached blonde, and not only that but she had also cut and curled it, similiar to that familiar coiffure of Kimber's he'd become so accustomed to. She had on more make-up than usual. Her large brown eyes were more prominent, with the fair amount of black eyeliner, mascara and violet eyeshadow that adorned them. Her eyebrows were more defined and her puker was lined with a rosy pink shade of lipstick. She had even changed her ensemble. She wasn't wearing the dark denim jeans and black V-neck blouse she'd been wearing earlier that day. Instead, she was clad in a slinky, burgandy spaghetti strapped dress. The garment fell just a few inches above her knees and hugged her petite figure in all the right places, making her breasts appear more ample than they actually were.

Shortly overcoming his surprise, he leaned his hip against the door and sighed wearily. "Jesus," he muttered with a slight roll of his eyes. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, it looked as though they already had.

A bewildered expression crossed her face. "What's wrong?" Before he had a chance to formulate some kind of reply, she went on. "Okay, look, I know what you're thinking, but I _like_ the way I look."

His brows arched expectantly. "Right," his forehead wrinkled in thought, "and this little transformation of yours had nothing to do with Kimber." His words were more in the form of a statement rather than an actual question.

Now it was her who rolled their eyes. She shook her head in disbelief, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Why are you acting like this again?" She exhaled sharply. "Look, I don't want us to get into another fight again, okay? Can I please just come in so we can have dinner?"

He bit back his frustration, contemplating the thought for a brief moment before opening the door wider for her to step inside. "Sure, come on in," he replied casually, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped over the threshold and inside his condo. Shutting the door behind her, he followed her over to his dining area. He'd brought their food about fifteen minutes ago so it was probably cold by now, but he hadn't entirely been to blame for his improper timing. She sure hadn't cared enough to answer her phone the first couple times he called.

Neither one of them spoke another word to the other until the table had been set, and they were both seated to begin their meal. He stole a glance at her before taking a swig of his beer, wondering if she'd offer up some sort of explaination as to why she'd done what she had. Not only for her sudden transformation but also why she'd lied to him about her consultation. She didn't make eye contact with him though. In fact, when he glanced at her, she didn't even look up. Instead, she kept her gaze fixated on her plate of food, poking at it with her fork, and shifting every now and then in her chair.

He sighed deeply with a roll of his eyes. Okay, if she wasn't going to speak up, he had no other choice but to initiate this whole damn thing himself. He stared intently at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her brows furrowed in bafflement, slowly raising her eyes up to his. "Tell you what?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You lied to me. You didn't come into the office to visit with Sean. You came in because you wanted a God damn tit job." He noticed her open her mouth to debate with him, but he didn't give her the chance, "what the hell were you thinking? Did it ever occur to you to discuss this shit with me before going to someone else about it?"

Her jaw hung open in astoundment. "He told you? I told him not to! Why the hell would he do that?" She demanded. Sighing irritably, she crossed her arms firmly over her chest and shook her head in disbelief.

"Because he's more than just my partner, he's my best friend, and contrary to what you might have heard, we tell each other everything." Okay, well maybe not everything, but close to it. "What I want to know is why the hell you'd talk to him about it without consulting me first? You're my daughter. I think I have a right to know about this kind of shit."

She brought both of her hands up to her head, fisting clumps of her hair and shutting her eyes tightly. "Please! Please, just stop! I have a headache. Just please stop talking to me for a minute." She sighed wearily, pursing her lips together and looked as if she might start crying.

He fell quiet the moment she ordered him to stop speaking, not quite sure what was wrong with her, but he wasn't going to pressure her into talking until she was a little more reasonable. Or at least more coherent. He cleared his throat as he sat back in his seat. With a shake of his head, he brought the beer back up to his lips and took another swig. Instead of coaxing her into answering him, he picked up his fork and started consuming the food on his plate.

Slowly, she brought her hands away from her head and looked back up at him. "I'm sorry, okay? I probably should have talked to you about it, but do you have any idea how weird it would be? Me talking to my own father about getting a boob job? It would be more than a little awkward. I went to Sean because, no offense, but I felt more comfortable with him." She averted her gaze back down to her plate, once again beginning to poke at her food.

He exhaled sharply, stealing a glance at her plate before looking up at her face. He'd already heard this explaination from Sean, and he didn't need to hear it again. What he needed was the real truth of the matter. "Why the hell did you decide to get them in the first place?"

Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Bringing her freehand up to her forehead, she brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. She shifted once again in her seat and wiped away a bit of sweat that had accumulated at her temples. "I don't know. I just wanted to do something for myself that would make me happy, and you know, I've never been happy with my body so I thought it would boost my self-esteem. I don't know."

His forehead wrinkled in thought, noticing how restless she had suddenly become, and it was then he realized that something was definitely off about her. "Is that why you've suddenly turned into Kimber's God damn Barbie doll? Because you thought it would boost your self-esteem?"

She dropped the fork in her hand with an audible _clang_, turning her head suddenly in his direction and glaring coldly at him. "I'm not her fucking Barbie doll, and yeah, maybe I did do it so it would boost my self-esteem, but it was my choice. Kimber treated me to a spa day, and after being there for the first hour, I actually felt better than I had in a long time. I needed this, and I needed a change. Besides, after all I've been through, I think I deserved it. I don't see what your problem is with it."

"I don't have a problem with this. What I do have a problem with is when my ex-girlfriend starts having a negative influence on my daughter." He waved one of his hands in the air, gesturing to her appearance, "frankly I could give a shit about this little transformation of yours, but when it comes down to you getting a tit job just to complete the Kimber package, that's where I draw the line."

She narrowed her eyes incriminatingly on him, quickly wiping away the excess sweat on her forehead and shifting in her seat. Turning her body towards him, she brought one of her arms up and placed it on the back of her chair. "She's not having a negative influence on me, _Christian. _Incase you didn't hear what she said yesterday, she's being my friend. A _friend_, not an enemy, and I'm nineteen years old. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, including getting a boob job."

He shook his head, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. "Over my dead body. Neither Sean nor I will give you this surgery, and if you go to another surgeon, the money sure as hell won't be coming out of my pocket, sweetheart. And another thing, why the hell are you so damn jumpy all of a sudden?" He cocked yet another eyebrow at her.

Amy exhaled sharply, turning her head away from him and then looking down at her hands. She shook her head. "I'm not jumpy," she argued.

"Oh yes you are. You can't seem to sit still for one God damn minute, and let's face it, you haven't had a bite of your meal. What the hell is the matter with you?" He leaned towards her, cocking his head to see her face and staring intently at her. "Are you high?"

Her eyes widened in horror, quickly lifting her chin and gaping at him. "What! No!" She sighed deeply, pressing one of her hands to her stomach, and looking down at her lap. "I just don't feel good, and if I eat anything, it'll probably make me worse. I'm sorry, okay?"

His jaw tightened up, debating whether or not he should believe her. He stole a glance down at the place she had her hand. Emitting a heavy sigh, he sat back in his chair, but kept his gaze locked on her face. "If you weren't feeling well, you could have at least told me that before you came over, or at the very least, I could have come to you."

She exhaled sharply, lifting her chin once again and staring straight at the wall across from her. Rolling her eyes dramatically, she shook her head, finally looking over at him. "I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to say?"

His temper was gradually rising to the surface, and his patience was also wearing thin. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself, but it was easier said than done. The muscles in his jaw constricted once more, the tension traveling downward, through his neck, over his shoulders, flowing through his chest, and finally settling in the pit of his stomach. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me what's really going on. I want the truth Amy."

Her brows stitched together incriminatingly. "The truth about what?" She shouted. "I told you I didn't feel good. I would have thought that you of all people would understand. I mean, you _are _a doctor."

He sighed irritably, leaning a little closer and gazing deeply into her eyes. Well, her pupils weren't dialated which was a relief, but there were other signs there that still arroused his curiosity, and if his assumptions were correct, he was going to have a big problem on his hands. And so was she. "That's right, I am a doctor, and given my experience, I know damn well when someone is high. I know the warning signs when someone is doing too much."

She scoffed, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. Bringing one of her hands up to her forehead, she winced. "You would, seeing as how you got high yourself before." She opened her eyes, sending him an icy glare. "I already told you, I'm not feeling good! That's all! Just drop it."

He threw the fork down in his hand, which exuded the same sound hers had a few minutes ago, but still managed to startle her somehow. His blood was boiling, and as the minutes went by, he was finding it more and more difficult to supress his growing rage. He returned her glare with one of his own. "I'm not going to drop it until you tell me what the hell I want to know." His tone of voice escalated as he continued, "did Kimber give you a God damn hand out? Is that why you've been so jumpy lately?"

Both of her hands came back up to her head, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples and shutting her eyes. "I can't deal with this shit right now!" Pushing herself up to her feet, she scurried in the direction of the door.

He was on his feet a split second later, stalking after her. "Hey! God damn it Amy, come back here!" Reaching out, he grabbed a hold of her arm, stopping her within five feet of the door. "Where the hell are you going?"

She whirled around on her heels, struggling to free her arm from his grasp, which wasn't tight enough to hurt her, but firm enough to keep her from getting away from him. "Let me go," she demanded, as he noticed the tears that were already welling up in her eyes. "I'm going back to my apartment. I can't stay here anymore and listen to this. No matter how many times I deny it, you won't believe me anyway. You've been acting like this to me all day today, and I just can't take it anymore. I don't deserve to be treated this way."

His heart constricted in his chest as the tears began streaming down her cheeks. She tugged on her arm once again, and this time, he loosened his grasp enough for her to finally free herself. He planted his hands firmly on his hips, sighing wearily. Although a higher power was advising him to keep his mouth shut, he ignored it, along with the tears in her eyes and pressed on. "And I didn't deserve being lied to either but you still did it, didn't you sweetheart?"

Amy shook her head as the tears continued down her cheeks. With a sniffle, she brought one of her hands up, quickly wiping them away. She scowled and averted her gaze to her feet. "She was right. God, she was right." Exhaling sharply, she spun around on her heels and hurried towards the door.

A part of him was aching to go after her, but a bigger part knew it was better he left her alone. At least for now. He stood there, watching her depart from his apartment, a brooding scowl fixed on his face. The final slam of the door was, metaphorically, the final nail on the coffin. He sighed deeply, dropping his gaze to the floor. His eyes fell closed as he swallowed the huge lump that had formed in his throat. Yes, he was pissed at her for lying to him, and even more pissed at the unbelievable day he'd just had, but he had lost control. After all he'd been through that day, he felt as though his head were about to explode.

Opening his eyes, he exhaled sharply before turning on his heels and shuffling towards his kitchen. Stepping towards the back counter, he opened up one of the cupboards above the sink, grabbing the bottle of Macallan 18 stashed there along with his other hard liquor collection. Retrieving a clean glass from his dishwasher, he opened up the bottle and poured himself a glass of the scotch. He took guzzle of it before grabbing the bottle and stepping back into the living room. Dropping down onto his couch, he set the bottle down on the coffee table before leaning back. He took a swig from the glass. Then another, savoring the liquid as though he were extremely parched, but the scotch was more of a remedy for his own inner turmoil than his thirst.

He might seem like the biggest asshole to Amy right now for the way he'd chewed her out, but that talk had been long over-due. Sean was right. It was time he start acting like a father and set some ground rules for his daughter. He might have been easy on her before, but that was all about to change. Contrary to what she might think, she didn't have a get-out-of-jail free card just because she was living on her own or because he was her father. Yes, she was a consenting adult, but being an adult came with responsibility, as well as making logical decisions. Turning into a copy-cat of his ex-girlfriend was only going to lead her down a path of destruction. He still had his doubts about whether she was taking drugs, but as long as he kept his eyes open, he was confident the truth would come out.

She might be a good liar but she was still a Troy, first and foremost. That was the most important part, and it just might end up being the part that would help him discover what was really going on beneath the surface of things.


	32. There's Something About Amy

( The next morning )

A soft but weary groan escaped Amy's throat as she turned over in her bed, having been awakened by the audible knock on her door. Her eyelids fluttered open for a split second and then shut as she proceeded to pull the covers up and over her head, blocking out the rays of sunlight that filtered in between the brown suede curtains, that hung over the large window across the room. She settled in once again, intent on going back to sleep, not quite caring who was at the door. It must have been about seven o' clock in the morning, and definitely not the time she normally would be waking up. Suddenly, there it was again. The knocking, this time more audible and intent than before.

She grunted irritably, sensing that whoever it was wasn't going to go away anytime soon. As much as she didn't want to, she brought the covers down and opened her eyes. Blinking back the sluggishness that still lingered behind, she rolled her eyes and crawled out of bed. She stole a glance at the digital clock on her nightstand, her eyes widening in horror. _Seven thirty in the morning! _Who the hell would wake her up this damn early? A scoff escaped her as she staggered out of her bedroom, through the foyer and towards the door. "Whoever it is, I'm going to kick their ass."

The knocking continued and it was becoming more and more obnoxious. "I'm coming damn it!" She cried. Almost immediately, the knocking ceased. She exhaled sharply when she finally reached the door. Not bothering to glance into the peek-hole, she opened it ajar and peeked her head out, raising her eyes up to see Christian standing there. She sighed wearily. Great. Just great. What did he want now? Whatever it was, she didn't really care. "What do you want?"

Christian sighed a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry if I woke you sweetheart, but I wanted to come by and apologize for last night."

She rolled her eyes. "It's seven thirty in the morning! Couldn't you have come by later today when I'm actually _awake_?"

This time it was he who rolled his eyes. "Look, I thought I'd come over now so I could go to work with _some_ peace of mind, or at the very least, not feel like such a selfish prick for the next few hours." He scowled, gazing at her intently but with a hint of tenderness in his eyes. "I really am sorry sweetheart. I was out of line. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did."

She dropped her gaze to the floor, leaning her head against the door frame and sighing woefully. Tears started to form in her eyes, but she pursed her lips, refusing to let them fall. She shook her head, "I can't do this." She pulled her head back and started to close the door, but he brought his hand out to keep it from closing. Lifting her gaze up to his, her brows furrowed incriminatingly. What did he think he was doing?

"Please," he pleaded softly. "Let me come in. I won't stay long, I promise." He stole a glance down the hallway, "I have to leave for work soon anyway."

For a long moment, she stood there, staring at him blankly and debating whether or not she should in fact let him in. She couldn't afford to be hurt again. Not like last night. It was too much to take right now. Finally, she went on to open the door wider, allowing him to walk in. "Fine. Whatever." She whirled back around on her heels, scurrying back in the direction of her bedroom, leaving it up to him to shut the door. He followed her into her bedroom without a word. She didn't dare glance back at him, but simply pulled back the covers and crawled back into bed. A weary sigh escaped her as she settled in to get comfortable once again.

He moved closer to her, hesitated and then dropped down into the space given to him at the end of her bed. She didn't protest but turned to lie on her side, looking expectantly down the length of her body at him. He sighed deeply, scowling down at her, "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have blown up at you the way I did, but after all the shit that I had to deal with yesterday, I felt like the whole God damn world was against me." He reached out to take her hand in his. As much as it pained her to do it, she pulled her hand back, preventing him from doing so. His scowl deepened, "I really am sorry sweetheart. I was an asshole, and I shouldn't have taken out my day's aggression on you."

Her heart constricted in her chest seeing the sorrow in his eyes, and for a minute, she was almost tempted to tell him what had been going on with her. "Kimber..." Her voice trailed off. She exhaled sharply, her heart pounding frantically in her chest.

His brows stitched together inquisitively. "Kimber what?"

She swallowed the huge lump that had formed in her throat. "Kimber...thought it would boost my self-esteem if she gave me a make-over." Okay, so that was a cop out, but after the way he reacted last night, all hell would probably break loose if she came right out and told him she was doing drugs.

He sighed softly. "You told me that already, but if you honestly like the way you look, I guess this is just something I'll have to get used to."

She scowled, looking up at the ceiling. "Last night, after our fight, I came back here...and I put on that song. You know? That LeAnn Rimes song we danced to at that Monty's restaurant where we first had dinner?"

He nodded his head in regard, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I remember."

She nodded, her heart constricting in her chest as the flood gates threatened to spill open. She bit down on her bottom lip, holding her emotions at bay but it was a struggle in itself. "I put that song on and I just curled up in bed, and cried myself to sleep." Her voice broke as she continued, "I was so upset. I felt like I would never stop crying." She wouldn't tell him this, but if a hit or two of coke wouldn't keep her wired all night, she would have actually taken it in an attempt to drown out the sorrows. Even alcohol sounded good to her last night, but the only alcohol in her posession would be found in Christian's apartment, and getting it would have been more than a longshot.

Christian dropped his gaze to the floor, seeming to be holding back his own emotions as he listened to her speak. She cocked her head, noticing the pained expression on his face. He was more than likely swimming in a sea of guilt, and he should be. His blow up had been totally uncalled for, and all it had succeeded in doing was reminding her of the bastard father she had been burdened with for the last nineteen years of her life. The father that still wanted her back in his life, regardless of his past abuse on her and her mother. He shook his head, inhaling deeply and finally raising his eyes up to hers. "I'm so sorry sweetheart." He reached out to grasp her hand once again, and this time, she actually let him take it and give it a soft squeeze. "I didn't think I'd upset you that much. I'm sorry."

A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. "You...accused me of doing drugs." She cringed, praying that he wouldn't see through the guilt that lingered on her face.

He exhaled sharply, pursing his lips and shaking his head. "I know, and I'm sorry. I should have believed you." He gazed deeply into her eyes. "You're better than that."

She gingerly nodded her head. "I know."

"Are you feeling any better this morning?"

"Yeah, much better." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I guess all I needed was to get some sleep."

"Good." He gave her a tight smile before looking down at his lap. A soft sigh escaped him. Suddenly, an awkward silence passed between them. She waited for Christian to say something more, but he didn't. Then, just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, he looked back up at her and finally continued. "Well, I should probably get going and let you get some sleep. I just thought I'd come by and apologize for being the asshole that I was to you. You didn't deserve that."

She shrugged his words off, "forget about it." He scowled as he pushed himself up to his feet, turned on his heels and started out of her bedroom. She shifted beneath the covers to get comfortable once again. He was half-way out the door when something compelled her to call out to him. "Christian?"

He froze mid-step and whirled back around to look over at her. "Yes?"

"I really...like Kimber. As a friend I mean. I just don't want you to hate me or her because of it."

He sighed wearily with a shake of his head. "I don't hate you sweetheart, but as I told you before, Kimber and I have had a bit of a rocky past together. She can't be trusted." He started back across the room towards her, and knelted down at her bedside. Placing his hand on her arm, he caressed it with the pad of his thumb, and gazed tenderly into her eyes. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

A smile crept across her face, his tender touch warming her heart until suddenly, a tremendous amount of guilt loomed over her head. How could he possibly make her feel loved but sinful at the exact same time? Well duh, she knew why, because she was going behind his back and snorting coke. She chewed apprehensively on her lower lip, her heart constricting in her chest as she willed herself to look away at something else other than his face.

"What's wrong?"

Her eyes fell closed for a nanosecond before looking down at the place where he had his hand. She inhaled deeply, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she slowly lifted her eyes up to his. _Tell him. Tell him! You have to tell him. _She pushed the voices out of her head, shaking her head. She forced herself to utter the words lodged in the back of her throat. "I've been..."

His brows furrowed inquisitively and then arched expectantly, clearly wanting her to go on.

She exhaled sharply. "Thinking...what are we going to do about my adoptive father? I mean, this surgery you're going to give him isn't going to keep him away from me, is it?"

Christian averted his gaze downward, a woeful sigh escaping him. She could tell that he wasn't hopeful about any of this either. He shook his head, bringing his eyes back up to hers. "I don't know sweetheart, but I promise we'll figure something out. I'm never going to let that asshole lay a hand on you or come within a five mile radius of you again. I'll do whatever it takes, even if it means involving the police."

Her bottom lip quivered as the tears began welling up in her eyes all over again. She looked down at where his hand was once again, sliding her arm up until her palm was against his, her fingers interlacing with his own. "Thank you. Really, I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here." She shut her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes came open suddenly when she felt his lips brush against her forehead, noticing that there were tears in his eyes too. She sniffled, stealing a glance at the clock beside her bed. "You should probably get going, huh?"

He looked over at the clock with a soft sigh, nodding gently. "Probably." He gave her hand another gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. Bringing both of his hands up to his face, he exhaled sharply before looking back down at her. "I'll see you later sweetheart."

She nodded in understanding. "Okay."

He whirled back around on his heels and once again, started out of the room. She watched him until he was out of sight before curling back up in bed. A deep sigh escaped her. Although she had been tempted to tell him about her sudden coke addiction, something inside her had taken over and prevented her from doing so. She didn't know what it was, but it was almost as if her mind refused to obey her will. If only for a split second. It was as if what was wrong was right, and what was bad was good. She couldn't quite explain it, but there was also the matter that she was scared. Scared of his reaction once the truth was out. If it was anything like his blow up the night before, she was better off keeping it to herself. No sense in digging an early grave. After all, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him...right?

* * *

Courtney slipped her arm through that of Matt's, leaning her head on his shoulder as a smirk crossed her face. "Hey, thanks again for deciding to sit in with us, Matt. Now you can finally see Amy and I in action. We're two great little actresses together, especially on Improv days." A light laugh escaped her.

Matt looked down at her with a small smile. "As long as we get to spend some time together, it's cool with me."

"Court?"

For a moment, she didn't even realize that someone was talking to her. She was too wrapped up in the affectionate moment she was sharing with Matt.

"Court!"

"Huh?" She lifted her head from Matt's shoulder to look over at an irritated Amy, who sat in the seat beside her at the back of the spacious classroom. "What? What's up girl?"

Amy rolled her eyes dramatically. "God, have I suddenly become invisible to you?"

Her brows furrowed in bafflement. What was up with her friend's sudden attitude? She had no clue, just as she had no clue why Amy had made this sudden transformation into a blonde. "No, why would you even think that?"

Amy shook her head and turned to look away at something else, a scoff escaping her. "Forget it." She reached out and grabbed Courtney's arm, urging her close, and lowering her voice to a tone that only she would hear. "Why _did _you ask Matt to sit in with us in drama class anyway?"

She glanced down at where her friend's hand was, almost crying out in pain when she was pulled in her direction. Her brows stitched together incriminatingly. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe because I haven't spent that much time with him lately, and I don't want him to think that I don't still love him. I do. Besides, he just got out of school so I thought it would be nice if I invited him. Why? Do you have some kind of a problem with it?"

Amy sighed wearily, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her forehead, and shifting in her seat. Leaning back, she went on to cross her right leg over her left. "No. Well, not really." She shook her head. "Nevermind. I just thought that you and I were finally going to get some time...alone. We haven't exactly hung out, just us girls, for the longest time."

This time, it was Courtney who sighed. She was right. They hadn't had much time to spend together, which was partially her fault, seeing as how she'd been trying to think of new ways to show Matt how much she loved him...without sex, but he wasn't taking it so well from what it seemed. "I know, and I'm sorry, but incase you've forgotten, this isn't just a one sided thing. I told you that. Remember? You've been spending a lot of _your_ time with Christian."

Amy exhaled sharply. "That's not true, and shit, he's my dad. My _real _dad. I can spend as much time as I want with him. At least he's not as much of an asshole as my other one. What's wrong with me spending time with him?"

"Nothing! Just like there's nothing wrong with me spending time with my own boyfriend. Damn girl, chill with the attitude for a minute."

"Whoa, what the hell are you two fighting about?"

_Shit._ Courtney turned her head as Matt spoke up, suddenly interrupting their little quarrel, which in her case, shouldn't have even been taking place to begin with. "Nothing Matt. Don't even worry about it. This is just between us girls." She forced a small smile before turning back to a disgruntled Amy, who shifted in her seat once again, which to her, seemed like the fiftieth time since they'd been in class. "What's up with you today? Why are you acting this way?"

Amy narrowed her eyes on her. "Like what? I'm not acting any certain way. All I did was ask a question. Is that a crime?"

She shook her head in disbelief, a scoff escaping her. There was definitely something up with Amy, but she couldn't figure out what. She sighed irritably. "Listen, I don't know what your deal is today girl, but do you think we could put all this aside and come up with an idea for our Improv scene?"

Amy rolled her eyes, brushing aside a few loose curls that had matted themselves to her forehead. She uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again, this time placing her left leg over her right. Shifting in her seat once again, she turned herself towards Courtney and Matt, propping one of her elbows on the back of her seat and leaning her head on her hand. She hesitated before finally nodding her head. "Fine, whatever."

As Courtney proceeded to discuss her ideas for their scene, she couldn't help but notice that her friend didn't seem all that interested in it. In fact, she seemed rather bored. Especially by the way she refused to make eye contact with her, and kept her gaze fixated on other things around her. If anyone felt invisible here, it was her. She was trying hard to set aside time for both her boyfriend and her best friend, but the way things were going, she felt as if neither of them even cared anymore. Stopping short, she gazed intently at a painstricken Amy. "Hey, girl, what's wrong with you? Are you okay?"

Amy's eyes came open, the hand that was on her forehead falling away as she looked up at her. A weary sigh escaped her. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a headache." She shifted in her seat once again. "God, it wouldn't kill them to turn the air conditioning on in here every now and then. It's too damn hot." She muttered under her breath, bringing her hand up and fanning herself.

Courtney wasn't hot. In fact, the classroom was relatively cool. She stared back at her friend in confusion. "Were you even listening to anything I said?"

She blinked just before she brought one of her hands up to her head, her fingers slipping through the thick curls on her scalp. She shook her head. "No, sorry." Exhaling sharply, she pushed herself up to her feet, wavering on her heels as she did so. "I gotta go to the bathroom." Before Courtney had a chance to question her, she turned on her heels and scurried towards the door.

Courtney's brows furrowed inquisitively, turning back to Matt. "Did you just see that?"

Matt leaned back in his chair, bringing one of his hands up to scratch the back of his head. "Yeah, she seems like she's been acting pretty weird lately."

"Totally. It's not just me, is it? I mean, first she shows up for class looking like...God, I don't know what, and then she gets pissed at me for no reason. And what's with her attitude anyway? She's more than a little out of it, am I right?"

He nodded his head. "Yeah, she's..." His voice trailed off as he sighed softly. He shook his head, averting his eyes to something else in the room. "Nevermind."

A look of bafflement crossed her face. "She's what? Matt, what were you going to say?"

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs and turning his head to look over at her. "Look, maybe it's just me, but she is kinda acting like she's stoned or something. Maybe she's doing drugs." He shrugged his shoulders.

Courtney blinked back her astonishment. "Drugs? Are you kidding me? Amy would never do that. Why would you even think that?"

He dropped his gaze to the floor, hesitating before finally uttering the words. "I know from personal experience."

Her brows arched in surprise. For a moment, the words didn't seem to register with her. He wasn't serious, was he? Her heart beat a little faster in her chest, even as she considered the possibilities of not only her best friend doing drugs, but her boyfriend. God, was she in some kind of alternate universe all of a sudden? "Are you telling me..." Her voice trailed off, shaking her head. "Nevermind, I don't think I want to know."

Matt exhaled sharply, leaning back in his seat. "If you're asking me if I used to get high," he paused, stealing a glance around the area before lowering his voice, "the answer is yes, but I haven't been high for a while now, okay? I've cut back on that shit a lot lately."

Courtney exuded a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. It didn't make the news any less unsettling, but at least he wasn't getting stoned when he was with her. She definitely would have picked up on it a long time ago if he was. "Okay, so you don't do it anymore, but why would you think _she's_ doing drugs? I know Amy, she's better than that."

"Well, just think about it for a minute. We both know she's been acting pretty weird since she got here, and unless she's on her period or something, why would she take up some kind of attitude with you? I mean, you're her best friend, right?"

Leaning back in her seat, she crossed her right leg over her left. A weary sigh escaped her as she folded her arms firmly over her chest. "To be honest, I don't know _what_ I am anymore. What's happened to her? She's not acting like the Amy I used to know, and what's up with this make-over of hers? She's always hated blondes. Now, all of a sudden she's become one?" She shook her head in discouragement.

Matt scowled, scooting his chair closer to her and reaching out to take her hand in his. He turned his head and placed a soft kiss upon her lips. "Hey, maybe we're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. We're probably just being paranoid or something. Maybe Amy is going through a phase. She'll get over it, all right? It just takes time."

She exchanged a look with him, before placing a kiss to his cheek, the curve of his neck and then resting her head back on his shoulder. "You're right. Maybe it is just that time of the month. She does tend to get a little more bitchy than usual, but hey, all of us do."

"She'll get over it, but if she's not going to chill with the attitude anytime soon, let's spend more time together. Just the two of us." He turned his head, looking down at her intently and speaking softly. "Let's get together tonight. I can spend the night at your place."

She sighed deeply. "I can't, not when my dad's home. If he finds out that you're half-naked in my bedroom at ten o' clock at night, he'll kill me...and then he'll kill you." Okay, she didn't actually mean that literally, but her dad was more overprotective than most. Especially when it came to having boys over. "What about your place? I could always lie and say that I'm studying late at Amy's house or something."

"I don't know. It all depends on how late my dad is working, but I've had girls over before so I don't see why they'd have a problem with it. I really don't care where we do it, I just want us to be together. I feel like it's been weeks since I've been close to you." He scowled down at her, giving her hand a squeeze before interlacing his fingers with hers.

She knew exactly what he was referring to, and as the thought came to her, she felt her heart leap in her chest. "You mean...since we've been intimate."

"Yeah."

Her heart constricted in her chest, knowing it was partly on account of her avoiding sex. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she brought her hand up and placed it against the nape of his neck, urging him towards her until his lips brushed against hers in a soft kiss. She broke away a moment later. "I promise I'll make it up to you...tonight. Your place?"

A smile crept across his face, nodding his head. "Okay."

She smirked and placed a kiss upon his cheek. "Great, it's a date then." She noticed Matt's eyes roam away from her face, her brows furrowing inquisitively.

He cleared his throat, gesturing to something off to the left side of the room. "Incoming."

Courtney turned her head, following Matt's gaze. She blinked back her astonishment, noticing that Amy had re-entered the room, looking more disorriented than before she'd left. In fact, she looked a bit sick. She noticed their theatre teacher, Mrs. Bartlett, come up to her friend with a concerned expression on her face, shortly after she'd entered the room. Mrs. Bartlett was a petite and curvy Caucasian woman with short and curly brown hair, bushy brows, flashing blue eyes, and a fair complexion. Amy waved off the woman with a nod of her head, and mouthed something that looked like the words "I'm fine."

"Holy shit. What in the hell is up with her?"

Courtney exhaled sharply at Matt's words, shaking her head. "God I wish I knew." She stared in bewilderment at Amy as her friend collected herself, and headed in their direction, waving emphatically, and paying almost every other classmate an audible greeting on her way by. Oh yeah, there was _definitely_ something off about her. Since when did Amy Gellar -- or should she say _Troy _-- ever bother to greet people as she entered a room? Especially her classmates, who more often than not, singled her out of their social circles, and only spoke to her when absolutely necessary. What was wrong with this picture? Everything.

Amy didn't even take notice of the eye-rolling or weird looks she was sent, but instead kept walking until she reached her and Matt. Although Matt had raised the idea that Amy might be getting stoned, the way she was walking looked more as if she were drunk than anything else. "Hey! Hi! What's up guys? I'm back, sorry. I had to go to the bathroom, but I'm feeling much better now." She turned towards Courtney, draping her arm over the back of her chair, and looking over at her expectantly. "So what's up? Are we going to do this or what?"

She exchanged an anxious look with Matt before looking back at Amy. "Uh, do what?" Her brows furrowed in thought, looking closely at her friend's slightly flushed face. "Are you sure you're okay girl? You look sick."

Amy exhaled sharply, brushing aside a few strands of hair that had matted themselves to her now sweaty forehead. "I'm fine, I swear! I don't why everyone thinks I'm not. I told you, I just had to go to the bathroom, and what do you mean 'do what?' I'm talking about our Improv scene. What are we doing again?"

Courtney sighed wearily. Why bother explaining it to her again if she wasn't going to listen? Then again, she wouldn't allow herself to be up the creek without a paddle either. She opened her mouth to explain it again, but just as she was about to do so, Mrs. Bartlett clapped her hands together and shouted "showtime!" to which a hush fell over the class, and the students gave her their undivided attention. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Damn," she cursed softly, more to herself than anyone else. There goes that idea.

"All right, who wants to go first? Do we have any volunteers?"

Amy's head whipped around at the teacher's voice, springing up to her feet a split second later. "Oooh! Me!" She gestured to Courtney and Matt, "I mean, me, Courtney and Matt. We will! We'll volunteer. This'll be fun, right guys? Come on, come on!"

Courtney eyes widened in horror, startled by how quickly her friend jumped out of her chair. What was she? Stupid or just crazy? Before she had a chance to debate with her or even refuse, Amy grabbed both her hand and Matt's and dragged them towards the front of the class. "Wait! Amy!"

"Hey, wait a minute! What the hell are you doing? I'm not even in this class!" Matt argued, looking helplessly over at her Courtney.

She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing exactly what it is she _could _do. Turning her head, she looked expectantly over at Mrs. Bartlett. "Uh, no, Mrs. Bartlett? Our group isn't exactly ready yet. Do you think we could go last?"

"Go last! No way Court! I'm ready now!" Amy cut in, tugging harder on Courtney's arm as she lagged behind her. "Come on! Let's just do it. Since when have _you _ever had stage fright? Huh? Yeah, never, so stop."

Mrs. Bartlett perched herself at the edge of her desk, folding her arms across her chest. "If Amy says your ready then I assume you are. Go right ahead."

Courtney's shoulders slumped in defeat. This was going to be a disaster and she knew it. God, why did Amy have to be like this? Couldn't she have picked a better time to act weird? If anyone had stage fright about this sort of thing on a regular basis, it was Amy. Well...until today that is. A weary sigh escaped her as she turned her back on the class to face Amy, lowering her voice to a tone only she would hear. "What are you doing? You didn't even give me a chance to explain the scene to you."

Matt stole a glance at Courtney, speaking in the same hushed tone she had used. "Yeah, and besides, acting isn't exactly my thing anyway. Look, if this scene is just between the two of you then you should keep it that way. I just came here to be with Courtney, I didn't plan on doing any acting."

Amy exhaled sharply with a roll of her eyes. "Oh come on! What is wrong with you guys? It'll be fun! Don't you think it'll be fun?" She looked from Courtney to Matt. "The scene will be better with you anyway, Matt. I mean, come on," she scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, "you can't do a scene between two girls without have a cute guy in it, right?" She giggled, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "So come on! Stop stalling and let's do it!"

Courtney shook her head. "No! You aren't even listening to me, Amy. This isn't going to work this way."

"Come on already!" A hispanic bald guy at the back of the class shouted.

"Yes, let's see the scene. There are other groups that would like to perform as well, unless both of you girls would rather take a zero for the assignment. Particpation is an essential part of this class. You should know that by now."

Courtney cringed at Mrs. Bartlett's choice of words, sensing that the woman's patience was indeed growing thin. Sighing wearily, her gaze settled back on Amy, who was still bouncing restlessly on the balls of her feet. It was almost as if she were tottering back and forth on a tight rope. "All right, fine, but since you don't know what we're supposed to be doing, just go with it, okay?" She stole a glance at Matt. If Amy literally dragged him into this, she'd have to find some way for him to be involved. Even if it had technically started out as a two person scene. Well, now it was a three person scene.

Matt brought his hand up, scratching the back of his head. "Hey, I already told you. I'm not an actor."

She rolled her eyes, "just follow my lead, please?" She gave him a pleading look to which he hesitated but nodded his head. _Here goes nothing_, she thought as she stepped around Amy and Matt. Laying down on the floor, she turned onto her side where she would be facing the rest of the class. She stole a glance over her shoulder, watching as Amy laid down beside her. Matt scratched his lip before following suit.

Finally, all three of them were lying on the floor, side by side. She shut her eyes, making it seem as if she were asleep. A brief moment of silence passed before she sat up suddenly, looking around the room frantically. "Did you guys hear that?" She asked in a meek tone of voice.

Amy sat up quickly, and a split second later, so did Matt. Her brows furrowing in bafflement, bringing one of her hands up to wipe the sweat off her forehead. She blinked a couple times, almost as if she were trying to focus. "What? Huh? Hear what? What's wrong?"

Matt's eyes shifted from one side of the room to the other. "I didn't hear anything. What the hell is going on?"

So far so good. Courtney shook her head. "I don't know. I heard like a rustling sound outside the tent--wait." She inhaled sharply. "oh my God, there it is again! Didn't you guys hear that?" She demaned, stealing a glance over her shoulder at the two of them, hoping they would continue to go along with it.

There was an awkward moment of silence between the three. Finally, Matt shook his head. "No--wait." He paused and then sighed wearily. "Look, I don't hear anything, all right? You been watching too many damn movies. I don't know about you guys, but I'm going back to bed, good night." Turning over onto his opposite side, he settled back down on the floor, acting as if he were actually going back to sleep.

Amy rolled her eyes, having been watching the two converse rather impatiently. Courtney could see that she was mercilessly trying not to jump into the conversation too early, and for that, she was grateful. However, what she would not be grateful for was the bomb that was about to go off and blow up in her face. "Ugh, will you stop stalling Court? We're going to be late for the reunion! And don't even act like you're nervous little Ms. Popular." She sprang up to her feet and dusted herself off.

Oh no. This wasn't happening. Courtney's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Reunion?" She stole a glance at the rest of their classmates, who looked just as baffled by the change of scene as she did. She was about to rise to her feet, but she didn't get the chance because Amy grabbed her hand and pulled her up herself. As soon as Matt saw both girls on their feet, he followed suit, although he didn't have the slightest clue what was going on either.

"Yes, reunion! _Our _high school reunion! That's the whole reason why we're here, remember? God, what are you? Drunk?" She groaned, wiping a few beads of sweat off her forehead and shifting on her heels, "ugh, I told you Court! You're not going to have every guy in there wrapped around your finger if you're drunk off your ass." There were a few scattered laughs from the other classmates, which caused Courtney's face to flush in mortification. Amy's forehead wrinkled in thought, averting her eyes to the ceiling. "Wait, that could actually be a good thing. That means the guys will be all over _me_!" She beamed, bouncing up and down excitedly.

"Well, better late than never." She added dryly.

Courtney exchanged a dumbfounded look with Matt, neither one of them knowing quite what to say. Exhaling sharply, she leaned a little closer to Amy, lowering her voice to a whisper. "What are you doing? We're supposed to be doing a camping scene, not a reunion!"

Amy disregarded her completely and continued on with the scene. She turned her head suddenly, her eyes lighting up in delight. "Oh my God! That's Curtis Princler! Damn, he's looking hotter than he ever did back in high school!" She waved her arms above her head, jumping up and down much like an enthusiastic cheerleader. "Hey sexy! Hey! Over here!"

Before Courtney or Matt knew what was happening, Amy was climbing on top of the large granite prop box -- the class often made use of during their everyday activities -- which sat at the front of the classroom. She got down on her knees and began running her palms up and down her waistline and over her chest, in a provacative and erotic fashion. "Hey! You know you want me! Come on baby, come and get me," she teased, a giggle escaping her.

Courtney's eyes widened in horror as did Matt's. Her classmates did nothing but laugh hysterically, much like a pack of hyenas. Crossing her arms over her chest, she brought one of her hands up to cover her face. This was humilating. "Oh my God. This isn't happening. Tell me this isn't happening," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"Jesus! What the hell is she doing?" Matt demanded, watching the scene unfold before his eyes.

Courtney shook her head, sighing irritably and stealing a glance at Mrs. Bartlett. "I don't know! Damn." All the woman could do was look on in complete and utter shock. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw the teacher also emit a chuckle. This had to be a dream. No, make that a _nightmare_. Maybe if she shut her eyes, she would wake up and her best friend would be back to normal. She shut her eyes, trying to block out the scene before her, if only for a few seconds. This wasn't real. This was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

"Holy shit!" Matt cried suddenly.

As much as her mind was screaming at her to keep her eyes closed, for fear of how much worse it could get, she found herself opening them and to her astonishment, Amy had risen to her feet and stripped herself of the pink halter top she had had on, leaving nothing but her bra and her short denim skirt. She suddenly began shaking her hips, and smacking her butt in an aggressive but provocative manner, dancing to an invisible beat, much like the girls you'd find dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly.

She stepped towards the prop box, trying mercilessly to put an end to this before her friend got into trouble. "Oh my God! Amy! What the fuck are you doing? Stop!" She had to shout to be heard over the uproar of hysterical laughter and hollering that filled the room. "Stop! Amy!"

Amy simply ignored her friend's pleas and continued seducing her imaginary Curtis Princler. "Yeah baby, you like that? I know you do. You wanted me and not Courtney all along, haven't you? Isn't that right baby?" She dipped her hips, squatting down on the prop box and thrusting her butt towards the right wall of the classroom. She sprang back up with a smirk on her face, swaying her hips rapidly back and forth, and running her fingers through her hair.

Matt exchanged a look with Courtney. "Shit, what in the hell is she on?"

Courtney sighed irritably, fixing her eyes back on Amy. "Amy! What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? Amy! Stop!" Courtney demanded, although she knew her pleas were probably in vain.

Suddenly, Amy paused in her little dance routine and wavered on her heels. She blinked a couple times, one of her hands rising to her forehead. "Oh God." She took a step back, stumbling on the edge of the prop box, and toppling to the floor. The laughter in the classroom began to die down as Courtney, Matt, and Mrs. Bartlett rushed to Amy's aid.

"Amy! Oh my God. Are you okay?" Courtney asked frantically. If her friend was seriously injured, she wouldn't be surprised. After all, she'd brought her misfortune on herself, hadn't she?

"Are you all right?" Mrs. Bartlett added, stepping up beside Courtney and looking fretfully down at the meek girl.

Amy winced in pain as she shifted positions on the carpet beneath her. She pressed one of her hands to her butt before looking up at those around her. Although she might have denied it earlier, now that Courtney was gazing down at her face, she really did look sick. Her pupils were dialated and her forehead was covered in sweat. "I'm fine! I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I'm fine, I swear. I just..." She stole a glance down at her chest and began searching around frantically for her top. "Shit," she cursed softly.

That was a lie and Courtney knew it. She planted her hands firmly on her hips, watching as her friend slipped her halter top back on. "You don't look fine. You've been acting weird ever since you got here. What is going on with you lately? Are you sick or something?" Matt exchanged a look with Courtney before stepping around Mrs. Bartlett, and coming over to his girlfriend's side.

"No! God! I'm fine! How many times do I have to say it? I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine! There. Is that enough for you?" Amy cried, grabbing onto the prop box and using it to push herself up to her feet, wincing as she did so.

Mrs. Bartlett stole a glance over at Courtney before looking closely at Amy. "Well, whether you're sick or not, I still think your skit went a little too far. Now I'll let it slide this time and refrain from giving you two a zero for the assignment, but next time, I hope you think twice before going to the extremes that you just did. Although the class found it funny, that's not the way we do things in this class. It's a learning experience, not a strip club. Understood?"

Courtney sighed wearily, turning her head away from the scene before her and crossing her arms firmly over her chest. Perfect. Just perfect. She rolled her eyes but nodded her head in understanding. "Yeah." Her eyes shifted towards Amy, wishing she could get inside her head and figure out why she'd done what she had.

Amy nodded her head. "Yeah, but you know what? I am feeling sick so I think I'm just going to go home." Before Courtney or anyone else had a chance to debate with her, she pushed her way past the group and scurried towards the door, limping slightly on her way there. A few classmates hollered catcalls at her, but she ignored it and simply kept walking.

"Okay, you wanna explain to me exactly what the hell that was?" Matt inquired as he and Courtney started back towards their seats.

Courtney's eyes shifted towards the door her friend had just walked out of. "I don't know...but it sure wasn't Amy." God, if only she could rewind the day or better yet, the week, and find out exactly what happened to Amy. The _real_ Amy. Their friendship was already on the rocks, but if she kept this act up...they might not have a friendship at all.


	33. You Can't Always Get What You Want

"Christ, I still can't believe I agreed to this bullshit." Christian stood at the sink in the scrub alcove, which over-looked the operating room at McNamara/Troy, scrubbing furiously at his hands on up to his forearms. This _was_ bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have to deal with this shit today, but unfortunetly, the moment he'd stepped into the office, Sean broke the news to him that the asshole, Frank Gellar, had arrived and was being prepped for his surgery. "I haven't felt this powerless since that God damn heroine incident with Escobar."

Sean cringed before looking intently across the sink at his partner, "look Christian, I offered to perform Mr. Gellar's rhinoplasty, but as we both know, the face lift is a two man job. You don't have much of a choice. I went and asked Quentin Costa to fly in at the last minute to help with the procedure, but he's out of the country on personal business."

His brows furrowed inquisitively. "Quentin Costa? Why would you even think of calling in another surgeon to fix this asshole's face, which, need I remind you is a face that _I_ went and mangled. This is my problem Sean, not Quentin's. I should be the one to fix it." He scoffed, shaking his head and focusing his attention back on his task at hand.

Sean continued scrubbing his hands and forearms, a weary sigh escaping him. "I was only doing what I felt was best for the patient. After yesterday, I didn't want to take the chance that you'd deliberately mess up the procedure just to get out any left-over aggression you still had."

He exhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes incriminatingly at Sean. "Do you really think I'd do that? My ass is already on the line here, not to mention my daughter's." He gestured towards the window on the left side of the room, where the operating room laid. Frank Gellar was lying on the table, covered by blue sterile drapes, intubated by mouth, and appeared to be already in a deep slumber. "If I screw up that prick's procedure in any way, I'll be in even deeper shit than I already am."

"Have you told Amy about any of this?"

He sighed softly, stealing a glance up at him. "She already knows. I didn't exactly tell her we were operating on him today, but I explained the situation to her. She thinks it's as much bullshit as I do, and frankly, I'm not surprised." He scoffed, his eyes shifting in the direction of the operating room, "shit, i'd rather be dealing with psychotic Columbian drug Lords than be giving this asshole a new face."

Sean scowled. "This man isn't holding a gun to your head, Christian. It's not quite the same situation."

"No, it's not, but he might as well be dangling my daughter's trust right in front of my God damn face." He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking woefully down at his hands as he fought to gain control of his emotion. "She's put all of her trust in me, Sean. I can't lose that on account of this asshole. I've come too far to lose everything. I won't let him put her through anymore hell than he already has. I can't allow that to happen God damn it." Tears stung his eyes but he held them back. He pushed his sorrow down as his blood boiled hot with fury. He wanted to hit something, but at the same time, he wanted to break down into tears. The thought of losing Amy left a hollowness in his heart. He hesitated before going back to scrubbing his arms, as furiously as before.

"You won't lose her, Christian. We're going to do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn't happen. We're going to give Mr. Gellar his surgery, and hope that once we give him what he wants, he'll have enough common sense to move on."

Christian rolled his eyes before lifting his chin and looking over at Sean. "That's just it, he won't move on. Not until he has what he wants, and he wants her. _She_, on the other hand, doesn't want a damn thing to do with him anymore, and for that, I don't blame her. He just can't seem to get that through his God damn head, no matter how many times either of us tell him. Which, incase you were wonder was the reason why I mangled his face to begin with. I'm not going to sit back and let him control us, I have to take action. I have to do something."

Sean paused in his scrubbing and fell quiet for a moment. A weary sigh escaped him before he brought his eyes up to meet with his partner's, "look Christian, this might be a bit of a longshot, but maybe you should consider talking to her adoptive mother. Maybe, if she understood the severity of the situation, she might be willing to lend a hand."

His forehead wrinkled inquisitively. "Lend a hand? Why the hell would you think she'd do that? She hardly took it lightly when I explained to her who I was. Getting her involved in any of this could potentially make things worse. She was married to this bastard, she doesn't know a damn thing about me. I hardly think she's going to believe my story over his."

"You mentioned that her parents were divorced. The way I look at it, if her mother suffered his abuse in the past as she did, it might be a nice transition if she witnessed just how much you loved and cared for Amy. Why don't you invite the two of them over for dinner sometime? It would give you the chance to get to know her mother a little better."

He leaned against the sink before him, exhaling sharply. He shook his head, "it's a hell of a longshot Sean. Even if her mother agreed to it, I'm going to have a harder time convincing my own daughter to join us. The two could barely get along before I came into the equation, but now that her mother knows I'm her biological father, it might as well be considered water torture."

Sean stuck his arms beneath the faucet, letting the water run down his forearms and over both his hands. He shook them off before raising both his arms up at shoulder-length. "It might be a longshot, but it could wind up being the only shot you have left." He turned on his heels and started backwards towards the door.

Christian watched his partner exit the scrub alcove, his words echoing back at him in his head even as he finished rinsing off his hands and followed him out of the area, entering the large operating room. Liz was stationed in her usual spot, at the head of the operating table, but looked up upon their entry. He stole a glance over at the man that laid on the table before them, subconsciously shooting daggers his way. As tempted as he was to walk out on this whole surgery, he knew he couldn't. If he was going to get through this, the only way he would be able to keep his cool was to consistently remind himself of one thing. He wasn't doing this procedure for the blackmailing bastard before him, but for the fate of his daughter. She was the only thought in his head at the moment.

After he and Sean were gowned, gloved, and masked, they took their respective places on either sides of the operating table. Christian's vengeful eyes fixated on the slumbering man. He didn't know him as well as his own daughter or her mother did, but he had a feeling that if he were awake, he'd probably mouth off some smart ass remark just to rile him up. If he wasn't so worried about the repercussions of his actions, he might have even considered doing to Frank what they'd done to get rid of Escobar, but Sean was right. It was an entirely different situation.

Sean exchanged a look with Christian before turning to look at Liz. "How's the patient Liz?"

Liz scrutinized the monitors beside her. "Deeply in twilight and his vitals are strong. He's ready whenever you are."

Sean nodded his head in regard. "Hit it."

Liz turned away from the two men, waving her hand in front of the stereo system, that sat on the shelf along the back wall of the room. The glass doors slipped open long enough for her to press the play button, and a few seconds later, the Gotan Project's tune, "Lunático," filled the large room. Dropping down onto the stool at the head of the table, she looked over at Christian, her forehead furrowing considerably. She turned her head, looking intently at Sean, "are you sure you want Christian operating today? From where I'm standing, he looks ready to stun gun someone."

Christian exchanged a look with Sean before sending an icy cold glare in Liz's direction. "Keep talking like that, and I just might. Who the hell are you to decide when I can and can't operate?" He fixed his cold eyes back on the patient that laid before him, holding out a gloved hand towards Sean, "let's get this bullshit over with so I can get the hell out of here. Scalpel."

She blinked at his choice of words. "Why's the hurry? Have you got some prime choice one-night-stand waiting for your departure?"

"No, as much of a shock as it might come to you, I don't. I'd just like to get this abusive asshole off the table so he can be on his way, and get the hell out of the lives of both me and my God damn daughter. Is that too much to ask?" He scoffed, his gaze settling back on a disgruntled looking Sean, "scalpel."

Her brows furrowed in bewilderment. Her eyes shifted towards Sean, staring expectantly at him. Sean looked from Liz to Christian, but didn't bother handing the instrument over to his partner. He looked across the table, meeting eyes with Christian. For a long moment, all the two men did was stare back at one another, almost as if they were trying to psych the other out.

"What the hell are you waiting for? Give me the scalpel Sean." Whatever the hell he was waiting for, he wasn't in the mood for it.

"Am I entitled to an explaination or are you two at odds with each other yet again?" When neither of them answered her question, she continued. "When is this going to end? When one of you goes to prison or when your seperation dismantles this business?"

Sean turned his head and looked over at Liz, speaking up at long last. "There isn't any animosity between us, Liz. At least not at present."

Christian could feel his blood boiling once again, and his patience was wearing thin. He leaned over, speaking through his already clenched teeth. "There will be if you don't hand over the God damn scalpel in the next five seconds. I don't have time for this Sean! I want to get this bullshit over with once and for all. Now stop screwing around and give it to me."

Sean exchanged a look with Liz before turning to the tray of instruments beside him, and picking up the scalpel. He turned back, staring blankly at Christian but with a hint of determination in his eyes. He stole a glance down at Christian's hand, which he still held out, awaiting for the instrument to be set in it. "Liz is right. You shouldn't be operating under these conditions. If we're doing this together, I'll be doing the majority of the work, you can assist."

His brows furrowed incriminatingly at his partner. He exchanged a look with Liz, who had a somewhat challenging look her eyes. A scoff escaped him as he rolled his eyes. Part of him was irritated by how dismissive Sean was to him, but he didn't think too much of it as he normally might have. To be honest, he didn't really care. Frank Gellar didn't mean shit to him. However, if the patient before him were his daughter, well that would be another story. Part of him was actually relieved that Sean had volunteered to do most of the work. If he were on the outside looking in, he wouldn't trust himself with a scapel aimed at this guy's head right now either.

As Sean began Frank's rhinoplasty, Christian suddenly found himself thinking back to what his best friend had told him moments ago in the scrub alcove. He was right. If this surgery didn't keep this bastard away from he and Amy, he might not be left with many options. Amy's adoptive mother could potentially wind up being their only hope.

* * *

Courtney's arms tightened around Matt's neck as she wrapped both of her legs around his waist. Her lips were pressed against his, kissing him passionately. Heavy metal music pumped out of the speakers on the stereo across the room. Both of Courtney's hands traveled down the curve of his back, sucking slightly on his bottom lip. This was perfect. Just the way it should be. He wasn't pressuring her into having sex with him again, and better yet, there hadn't been any interruptions whatsoever since she'd arrived at his house. No interruptions at all.

Matt's hands traveled down over the heated flesh of her backside, and over the clasp of her red and black lace bra. Their half-naked bodies were tangled up beneath the covers on his bed. The minute they had stepped inside his room, Courtney had taken the liberty of shedding her red, low-cut tank top as well as her dark denim hip-hugger jeans. Matt had stripped down to his boxer shorts, and the two had crawled beneath the covers to get a little more "comfortable." His opposite hand came up to the nape of her neck, his fingers then proceeding to slip through the dark and silky strands of hair on her head.

She opened her mouth wider, deepening the kiss and allowing her tongue to slide into his mouth, massaging his tongue with hers. Her hands began to travel down over his shoulders, down either sides of his body and stopping just above the waistband of his boxer shorts. She smiled against his lips when she felt his errection rubbing against the inside of her thigh. She brought her hand down, placing it over his penis and beginning to rub it through the fabric of his boxers. A pleasurable moan escaped Matt's throat, his body beginning to tremble against hers. She slowly pulled away, looking down at him with an evil grin. "You like that?" She rubbed his shaft a little deeper, her fingers traveling up and down it.

He sucked in a shallow breath, continuing to tremble. Placing his hand to the curve of her neck, he urged her nearer, pressing his lips to hers once again in a passionate kiss. As she willingly responded to his kiss, his hands made their way down her back, only this time, he found the clasp of her bra and struggled to undo it. It took him a moment before the flimsy garment was off and he tossed it to the ground. Dipping his chin, he began kissing the skin around her collarbone, his hands moving down to her lower back. He lifted his chin and looked up at her, "I wanna make love to you."

She froze at his choice of words, not knowing exactly what to say or do next. He leaned forward, beginning to kiss along the curve of her neck and around her collarbone. Her eyes fell shut, a soft sigh escaping her. God, his kisses felt so good against her heated and clammy skin. "Oh Matt..." She moaned softly, feeling his fingertips sliding up and down her backside in a loving caress. "Let's not rush it. I want a little more foreplay," she went on and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, taking his errection in her hand and beginning to rub it once again, "don't you baby?"

Matt's jaw went slack, exuding a more audible moan, feeling her hand against his penis. He shut his eyes, arching his chin towards the ceiling, his breathing becoming heavy. "Oh, my God." He opened his eyes, gazing up at her. A smirk crossed her face as she got into position, straddling his waist and beginning to move her hips against the lower half of his body. The fabric of her thong rubbed against the head of his errection, teasing him, but at the same time, keeping her hand right where it was and continuing the hand-job she was giving him.

She noticed the sweat that lined his forehead and sensed that he was on the brink of his climax. If this could continue without interruption, she might just make this an evening both of them would remember. Then, just when she expected Matt to come, the door to his room opened, and a familiar but older looking blonde lady waltzed in.

"Matt?" The woman's eyes widened in astonishment when she saw the scene before her. "Oh my God! Not this again!" She brought one of her hands up to her head, instantly averting her eyes to something else.

_Damn, I spoke too soon._ Courtney gasped, stealing a glance over her shoulder at the dumbfounded blonde. Almost instinctively did she roll off of Matt, quickly bringing the sheet up to cover her bare breasts. Her eyes shifted towards him, a bewildered expression crossing her face.

"Holy shit! Mom!" His eyes darted from Courtney to his mother, as astonished with her presence as she was by the scene. "What the hell are you doing here?" He demanded.

His mother stomped across the room to his stereo and immediately shut it off. She whirled back around to face the two of them. "I should be asking you the same thing. You told me you were staying late at the library to study, which, I can see now was a lie. When is this going to end with you Matt?"

Courtney exchanged a look with Matt, who simply rolled his eyes at his mother's words. Why hadn't she seen this coming? His parents were bound to come home sooner or later, but why did it have to be now? Just when things were getting hot and heavy. Propping her elbow up on the pillow beneath her, she leaned her head on her hand and sighed deeply. As much as she didn't want to, she found herself uttering the words, "I should probably go," she whispered, beginning to sit up, but his voice stopped her.

"Wait! Don't go." He stole a glance over at his mother and then brought his eyes back to hers. He lowered his voice to a tone that only she would hear. "Look, let me talk to her, all right?"

Courtney wasn't sure if his mother was the only one who'd arrived home, but if she was, maybe it would be better if Matt talked to her, just to clear the air so they could get back to business. So to speak. She sighed irritably but nodded her head. "All right." She watched him as he pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed. He approached his mother, stole a glance over at her, and then slipped out of his room.

She shook her head in disbelief, collapsing down in bed and lying flat on her back. She stared up at the ceiling, hoping that this would be the one and only interruption.

* * *

"Who is that girl? Do you even know her?" Julia McNamara demanded, standing before her son, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.

Matt exhaled sharply. "Of course I know her, mom. You think I would have even invited her over if I didn't? Look, I don't know what your problem is. I've had girls over before. I thought you'd be used to this by now." He didn't know why his parents had to make such a big deal out of everything he did. It wasn't as if he was dating a woman ten years older than him or having another threesome. "Oh, and there's a little something, it's called privacy. I think I should be entitled to it by now. What I do in my room is my business."

Julia's eyes narrowed slightly. "Privacy is earned Matt. It may be your room, but this is still my house. What my son is doing in his bedroom while I'm away is _my_ business. Were you even using protection?"

He sighed wearily. "Of course we were using protection. I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice." He stole a glance down the hallway, half-expecting to see his father pop in from the kitchen. Having not taken notice of the time, he wasn't sure if he was even out of work yet. The last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment were too disgruntled parents, but considering his father already knew Courtney, it probably wouldn't be that much of a problem. "I take it dad didn't give you the head's up. He already knows I'm seeing Courtney, but if he were here, he wouldn't have just barged in on the two of us. Did you even think about knocking first?"

"Maybe I would have knocked had I known she was coming over, and no, your father didn't mention anything about it to me. He's been working more than usual lately. I can't exactly make any guarantees that he'll be home in time for dinner."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Well that's nothin' new. It doesn't seem like anyone has much time for me anymore, do they?" He turned his head away with a roll of his eyes. Sort of like that man that he thought was his uncle and his friend. What was his name again? Oh yeah, Christian.

Julia's brows furrowed inquisitively. "That's not true. Why would you think that?"

"You know what? Forget it. I've got more important things to worry about." He pivoted on his heels, stealing a glance over his shoulder at her. "Would you mind giving us some privacy?" He didn't quite care what else she had to say, but instead of waiting for her to reply, he simply disappeared back into his room, determined to get back to Courtney before she walked out on him completely. If they didn't have sex tonight, it might end up being weeks before they did. Shit, where the hell was Christian when he needed another man-to-man talk?

He sighed irritably, looking over at a somewhat impatient Courtney. _Hypocritical asshole._ That's exactly what Christian was.

* * *

Courtney stole a glance at the clock on the wall, a weary sigh escaping her. It was nearing seven o' clock, and she was growing impatient just lying around doing nothing. The minutes were ticking by and if she was forced to wait any longer, she didn't see what the point was in even staying here. Upon hearing the door open, she sat up on her elbows, looking expectantly over at Matt. "Well?"

"Don't worry, I took care of it." He crossed the room towards his stereo, turning it back on, heavy metal music booming out of the speakers. He lowered the volume a few notches, enough so that they could still hear each other. Whirling around on his heels, he approached the opposite side of his bed, slipping once again beneath the covers, and settling down beside her.

She nodded her head, settling back down and curling up against him. "Good, now where were we?" A smirk crossed her face, her gaze fixating on his lips.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. He brought one of his hands up, placing it on her arm as he leaned in and covered her lips with his in a passionate kiss. She opened her mouth wider, deepening the kiss. One of her hands slipped beneath the covers, sliding over the warm flesh of his hip and along his lower back. Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, grasping one of his butt cheeks in her hand, to which he moaned passionately. She smiled against his lips, knowing that if that didn't arrouse him, she had other tricks up her sleeve. He broke the contact on her lips and began kissing the curve of her neck, sucking on it. Her eyes fell closed, a soft moan escaping her lips.

The hand that was on his butt slid over his thigh, and around to his crotch where her fingers closed around the head of his penis, stroking it lightly at first, and then began to rub it deeply, in much the same way she had before. He moaned more audibly against the skin of her neck, his jaw going slack for a minute as he began to tremble against her. She sighed softly, sweat breaking out at her temples as she felt his warm breath upon her neck. His lips found hers once again. The hand that was on her arm came up to cup her cheek as he lifted his body off of the mattress, positioning himself on top of her, but never breaking the contact he had on her lips. She slipped her hand out from its place beneath his boxers, and wrapped both of her arms around his neck, her fingertips sliding along his backside in a tender caress.

He dipped his chin, beginning to kiss along the curve of her neck once again, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to her belly button. She shut her eyes, moaning softly and lifting her chin towards the ceiling. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, loving the feeling of his lips upon her skin. She slipped her fingers through his hair, tugging on it lightly. This was nice, and already, the thought of his mother having interrupted was nothing more than a distant memory. Okay, so maybe Matt was still a little rusty in the intimacy department, but he was learning. Slowly but surely, he was learning. Besides, she'd rather let him give her pleasure than the other way around.

"Mm, that feels good. Keep going baby," she cooed. Okay, so maybe some tongue would be nice. A little licking, a little sucking. Boy, was he rusty. She felt his fingers slip beneath the waistband on her thong, slipping it off. Her eyes came open, looking down the length of her body at him. Her brows stitched together in consideration. "Matt...baby..." She placed her hands on either sides of his head, lifting his chin until their eyes met. He stared back at her, his brows furrowed inquisitively. "Let's not rush into this again, okay?" She murmured, leaning in and covering his lips with hers.

He blinked at her words. "Rush into what? Sex?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah. Look, I know that we haven't done it in a while, but I really like kissing you. I like...this. I like what we're doing now. It's perfect." Almost. "We don't have to have sex every single time we're together."

He turned his head away, a frustrated sigh escaping him. He rolled over onto his side, settling down beside her, and turning his body in her direction. Propping one of his elbows on the pillow beneath him, he stared intently down at her. "All right, what the hell is going on?"

She gave him a look of bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"Look, you know I'm not trying to pressure you into having sex, but everytime I get close to you, I feel you pull away. Is there something about me that turns you off? Because if there is, just tell me already so we can get it out of the way."

Shit. She knew this was bound to happen. Everything was going so well, up until now. If only she wouldn't have said anything, this wouldn't be happening. She scowled. "No, are you crazy? How could you think that?" She leaned in, placing her hand against the nape of his neck and kissing him softly. Leaning her forehead against his, she sighed softly and shut her eyes. "I love you Matt, and I want to be with you, but sometimes...it's nice to just be close like this, you know?" She kissed his lips once again for good measure, nibbling on his bottom lip as she did so.

Matt was hesitant but kissed her back. She turned her head and began kissing the curve of his neck, sucking on it in an attempt to give him a hickey. "My mom isn't going to barge in on us again, if that's what you're worried about. I told you, I took care of it already."

She pulled back, looking him square in the eyes. "Yeah, but can we guarantee that your _dad_ won't?" He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off before he could get one word in. She took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. "It would be more special if we had absolute and total privacy, don't you think? The way we do at my place..." She placed another kiss to the curve of his neck, his shoulder, and then his collarbone, murmuring against his skin, "when my dad isn't home. Remember last time?"

"Yeah, the candles were uh...a nice touch, but my dad's already--"

Once again, she cut him off from going any further, wrapping both of her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. He willingly responded to her kiss, his own arms enveloping her waist and bringing her closer to him. Her bare breasts pressed against the warm and smooth flesh of his chest. Bringing one of her hands down, she slipped her arm beneath the covers, rubbing deeply and tugging lightly on the head of his penis. A passionate moan escaped him, as he once again began to tremble. "You want to know how you can make me happy, Matt?" She whispered against his lips.

He shut his eyes as he took in a shaky breath. "H-how?" He breathed.

She wrapped one of her legs around his waist, the heel of her foot rubbing up and down against his butt. A smirk crossed her face, pressing her forehead against his, "you were close just a few minutes ago. Go down on me Matt." She pressed another kiss to his lips. "Make me come." She rubbed his penis a little harder.

He took in a shallow breath, his whole body trembling beneath her touch. His hands slid up her back, kissing her passionately just before he positioned himself on top of her again. Her leg slipped from around him, as did her hand from his penis. She gazed up into his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, hoping he would make this worth her while. He leaned in to kiss her lips once again. She spread her legs, giving him easier access to her vagina, and watched him as he slid down the length of her body and disappeared beneath the covers. She leaned her head back, her chin arching towards the ceiling.

She inhaled sharply when she felt his tongue slide across her clit, a soft moan escaping her lips as her eyes fell closed. "Oh Matt..." His tongue slid up and down her opening, causing her body to tremble and the muscles below her torso to constrict.

"Matt?" A familiar but slightly muffled voice sounded, an audible knock at the door following.

At first she thought it was entirely in her head, but then the voice came again, louder and more intent than before.

"Matt!"

"Shit!" Matt's own muffled voice came from beneath the covers.

She opened her eyes, no longer feeling his tongue against her. An irritable sigh escaped her, suddenly realizing that there was in fact someone at his door. Just as Matt began to crawl up the length of her body, her eyes darted towards the door as it immediately came open, and none other than his father, Sean, waltzed inside. _Not again._ Her brows stitched together incriminatingly, quickly pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts as Matt appeared on the opposite side of her, his hair in a disarray.

Sean's eyes widened in surprise at the scene before him, much in the same way his mother's had when she'd caught them. He opened his mouth to say something, but it didn't look as if anything was coming to him.

Matt sighed wearily, running his fingers through his hair. He exchanged a look with Courtney before fixing his eyes back on his father. She could sense that he was just as annoyed by the interruption as she was. "What?" He asked, the vexation clear in his voice. He stole a glance at the clock on the wall, "what are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be working late tonight?"

Sean looked from Matt to Courtney then back to Matt. "I am, but I thought I'd come home and share a meal with my family for a change. I'm headed back into the office after dinner, which is why I came in here to tell you, dinner's ready." His face flushed in embarassment, stealing a glance over at Courtney, "I'm sorry, Matt's mother told me you were here. It's good to see you again...Courtney, wasn't it?"

She exchanged another look with Matt before nodding her head at Sean. "Yeah." She forced a friendly smile.

Matt looked from Courtney to his father. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Sean nodded his head in regard, looking back at Courtney. "You're welcome to join us if you like. Matt's friends are always welcome, and neither Julia nor I would mind you staying."

She stole a glance at Matt for his approval, to which he gave her a tight and somewhat sheepish smile. Not knowing what exactly he was conveying in that smile, she rested her eyes back on Sean. "Um, thank you, but I don't think I'll be staying very much longer." She could see Matt giving her a somewhat questioning look out of the corner of her eye, but hoped that maybe it was just her imagination.

"Oh, all right. Well, the offer is on the table." He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him on his way out.

Matt sighed wearily, turning his head back to Courtney, that same questioning look remaining on his face. "What did you mean you won't be staying much longer? Are you leaving already?"

She sighed softly, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know." Cupping his cheek in her hand, she leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "Can't you just pick up from where you left off? You've got a few minutes, right?" She pressed a kiss to the curve of his neck, murmuring into his ear, "it would make me so happy."

He didn't bother giving her a reply so she continued, in a more intent tone of voice.

"Please Matt? For me?" Placing her hand over his crotch, she began to rub his growing errection. Oh yeah, she knew his weak spot.

His jaw went slack, gazing deeply into her eyes. He stole a glance over at the door and then brought his gaze back to her, nodding lightly. "Okay." He placed a kiss to her cheek before slipping beneath the covers to take his position.

She smiled wryly, shutting her eyes and relaxing against the comfy mattress beneath her. Her back arched slightly off of the mattress upon feeling his tongue against her opening. She trembled as she felt it glide up and down her clit, beads of sweat breaking out at her temples. Her heart picked up speed in her chest as she felt his tongue begin to encircle her vagina. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing becoming shallow. "Oh Matt..." She murmured, the muscles in her legs tightening as she moaned his name.

Her body temperature blazed hotter and hotter as his tongue continued to do it's work. She dug her fingernails into the fabric of the comforter, a passionate moan escaping her. Beads of sweat trickled down either sides of her face. Her heart pounded madly against her chest and her mouth went dry. Maybe Matt McNamara wasn't so rusty in the intimacy department after all. Where he had suddenly learned these new tricks was beyond her, but she wasn't complaining. Far from it actually. She could already feel her climax rising to the surface, and all she could do was lie there moaning for more.

A smile curled her lips, the hardcore heavy metal music still pumping as rapidly as her heart was. She dug her fingernails deeper into the comforter. Her chest arched towards the ceiling as her thighs pressed against the mop of hair on either sides of Matt's head. With each passing second, her climax was nearing closer and closer.

"Matt?"

There it was again, the same audible and familiar voice she had heard moments ago. No, it couldn't be. It was just her imagination, that's all it was, right? Suddenly, at the point when she was ready to let go, the door to Matt's room opened and his father peeked his head in.

"Matt! Are you come--?" Sean's voice stopped short. His jaw went slack.

Almost immediately did Courtney feel Matt's tongue cease it's action once his father called out to him a second time. "Holy shit," Matt's muffled and slightly irritable voice sounded.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes snapping open and darting towards the door where an astonished Sean stood. An irritable sigh escaped her. So close and yet so far away. This was getting ridiculous! How the hell was a girl supposed to get an orgasm this way? She closed her legs once she noticed Matt crawling up the length of the bed. Holding the sheet against her chest, she pushed herself up to a seated position, and tried as she might to catch her breath. One of her hands came up to brush aside the strands of hair, which had matted themselves to her sweaty forehead.

"I-I'm sorry." Sean stammered, seeming to struggle in formulating a sentence. "I didn't...I'm sorry. Matt?" His eyes roamed around the room, almost as if he expected Matt to pop out of nowhere with some answers.

Matt appeared from beneath the covers, running his fingers through his hair and exuding a deep sigh. "Shit." He pushed himself up to a seated position, exchanging a look with her before fixing his eyes on his father in a glare. "Dad, I'm kind of in the middle of something right now, all right?"

Sean's brows arched expectantly. "So I see." The man planted his hands firmly on his hips. "Are you coming to dinner? I already told you I have to get back to the office so if you don't mind--"

"I'll be there!" Matt cut in. "Okay? I'll be there. Just...give me another minute."

Both Matt and his father held each other's gaze for a brief moment. She actually thought that a fight was about to break out between them, if only for a few seconds. Then, Sean sighed wearily, turned on his heels and left the room. Matt turned his head to look back at Courtney, "I'm really sorry." He scowled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Maybe we should have done this at your place."

She turned her head away so he wouldn't catch her rolling her eyes. "Yeah, we probably should have."

He leaned in and kissed the curve of her neck. "I promise, I'll make it up to you."

That was just it. Could he make it up to her? Could he really and truly make it up to her, just the way she wanted it? She exhaled sharply, tossing the covers off of her body and leaning forward, beginning to search for her thong, which she imagined was probably wrapped up in the sheets by now. "I should get going." She stole a glance over her shoulder at him, "you know? Let you eat dinner."

He leaned against the headboard on his bed, sighing a frustrated sigh. "Yeah."

Once she found her thong, she pushed herself to her feet and stepped into it, pulling it back on. She rounded the bed to the opposite side and found her bra. Scooping it up off the floor, she proceeded to slip it back on, struggling with the clasp in the back. She stole a glance over at a dejected looking Matt, "can you help me with this Matt?"

He hesitated but rose to his feet, shuffling across the room towards her. "Yeah, sure." She stood still as he clasped her bra in its rightful place. "You know, you don't have to go just yet. You can stay...and have dinner with us. Then, maybe after that, we can pick up from where we left off. You heard my dad, he's going back to work, and my mom won't think twice about barging in on us again."

Her heart constricted in her chest. She sighed woefully as she turned back around to face him. Placing both of her hands on his shoulders, she gazed into his eyes. "As tempting as that sounds, I think we should wait. I want it to be special again. Like it was before." She pressed a kiss to his lips, knowing he probably needed a bit more reassurance or he'd never let the subject go. "Next time, we do it at my place. I'll find out when my dad won't be home."

Matt's arms enveloped her trim waist, urging her closer and lightly nodding his head. "Okay." He managed to give her a small smile and press a tender kiss to her lips.

"Matt! If you don't come to dinner in the next two minutes, we're starting without you!" His mother shouted from the opposite side of the closed door.

Courtney sighed irritably at the voice while Matt rolled his eyes. "There's my exit."

"I'm coming!" Matt cried out, his voice ringing in her ears. He brought his eyes back to Courtney's face with a scowl. "I guess you should finish getting dressed."

She nodded her head. "Yeah." Turning away from him, she gathered up the rest of her clothes and did just that. She stole a glance over at him as she pulled on her jeans. "I'll see you before I go though." He nodded his head in regard before stepping around her and slipping out of the room.

As she continued getting dressed, Courtney couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief. She'd come to his house that night looking forward to being intimate with him, without interruptions, and perhaps get some pleasure out of it, and what had happened? It had blown up in her face. It had been a waste of time to even come over, but she wanted to make Matt happy. She wanted to show him that she still loved him.

However, day by day, and little by little, she was seeing more and more signs that this relationship was heading nowhere. It was disappointing, yes, but there were still a few things she loved in Matt. She loved his kisses, his touch and his personality, but she was missing out on one big thing...sex. The kind of sex that could make the earth move. The kind of sex that could cause her to climax more than once in an hour's time. Sure, they were young and they had their whole lives ahead of them, but Courtney's patience was wearing thin. Matt could surely ease her mind and make her feel loved, but that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She _needed _more.

Damn, if Matt McNamara couldn't feed her sexual needs...then who the hell would?


	34. Late Night House Call

Christian was roused from his light slumber by a knock on his door. He turned over in bed, blinking back his sluggishness and turning his head in the direction of the sound. Stealing a glance over at the clock near his bed, he realized that it was one o' clock in the morning. Suddenly, he was wide awake. His brows furrowed inquisitively. One in the morning! Who the hell would wake him up at one in the morning? Unless of course it was an emergency, in which case, they better have a damn good reason.

He let out a long yawn as he pushed himself up to a seated position. Pulling back the covers, he slipped out of bed and trudged barefoot towards the door, clad in a pair of black boxer shorts and a matching black wifebeater. A weary sigh escaped him as he reached the door. Upon opening the door, Amy's adoptive mother was the last person he expected to see, especially at this hour. The woman stood before him with a troubled look upon her face. A million questions raced through his head. What did she want? How did she even get his address? And why had she decided to come over now? Couldn't it have waited until morning? Before he could open his mouth to speak, Teresa did it herself.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, but I had to make sure that Amy was okay."

His brows furrowed inquisitively at her choice of words. "She's fine, as far as I know. Why wouldn't she be?"

Teresa sighed softly, a scowl crossing her face. "I had a dream that something had happened to her, and I couldn't go back to sleep until I knew that she was all right." The woman cocked her head to see further into the apartment. "Is she here?"

A scowl came over his own face, his heart constricting in his chest at the thought of his daughter in peril. He stole a glance over his shoulder before bringing his eyes back to hers. "No, I'm sorry but she's not. She has her own apartment now." He might have been a bit spiteful to the woman the last time they'd spoken, but if he were in her position right now, he probably would be doing the same thing.

The woman looked a bit surprised. "You bought her her own apartment? You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I figured a girl her age should at least have her own place by now, and until she gets herself a paying job, I don't mind paying her rent. I'm a plastic surgeon so money isn't much of a problem," he exhaled sharply, his blood boiling at his next thought, "plus after seeing the way her asshole of a father treats her, she _needs_ a safe place to stay."

Teresa scowled once again but nodded her head in regard. A hopeful look filled her eyes. "I know it's late and she's probably asleep, but could you tell me where she is? I would feel better knowing for myself that she's okay."

For a moment, Christian debated whether or not he should tell the woman. He could almost hear his own daughter chewing him out for doing so, especially after she'd wanted so desperately to get away from her mother in the first place. He scowled, a deep sigh escaping him. "Are you sure you want to wake her up at this hour?"

"I need to see her. I won't be able to sleep until I do. You might be her biological father, but I'm still her mother and I still worry about her." She gazed intently at him, her eyes pleading with his. "Could you please tell me where she is?"

Christian's conscience was getting the best of him. This woman didn't want to pick a fight with him. She wasn't demanding that Amy come home. She just wanted to see her daughter. There was no harm in that. His scowl deepened, noticing the way Teresa seemed to be struggling to hold herself together. She looked to be on the verge of tears, but was clearly holding back. He might be digging himself an early grave, but somehow, the words managed to escape him. "She's next door, in apartment twelve A."

Teresa smiled softly, "thank you. I appreciate it, and I'm sorry again for waking you."

He bit down on his bottom lip, sighing wearily. "Don't mention it." He shut the door after the two exchanged good-byes and turned to head back to bed, wondering if telling her where his daughter was had been a mistake. The chances of the woman telling Amy's asshole of a father her location were slim. He could tell that the woman wanted to keep Amy safe just as much as he did, but there was no telling what that prick was capable of. Although he shuddered to think of it, he wouldn't put blackmailing past him. After all, hadn't Amy told him how much of a threat he was to both her _and _her mother?

Pushing the thought out of his head, he slipped back into bed and settled in, intent on going back to sleep. If he kept thinking about what more could go wrong with his daughter, he'd never be able to get back to sleep. It was hard enough for him to get to sleep the first time, knowing that he was leaving Frank Gellar in Sean's hands for the evening. If that asshole so much as touched a hair on his partner's head, he'd kill him. Well, at least they'd know of the man's whereabouts until he was discharged. It would sure keep him from causing anymore trouble, for his daughter or anyone else.

Christian was just beginning to drift off into a peaceful slumber, when suddenly, another knock sounded at his door. He opened his eyes, his brows furrowing in bewilderment as he turned to look over at the door. What? Again? What was with everyone at this hour? Couldn't they let a man get some sleep? He exhaled sharply, knowing that if he didn't answer it, the person probably wouldn't bother going away until he did. When another knock came, louder than the one before, it simply confirmed his assumptions. So, once again, he left the comfort of his bed and trudged back to the door.

"What now?" He demanded, upon opening the door. However, he froze the moment he laid eyes on what was on the other side of that door. Teresa Gellar stood there, her arm wrapped around a sickly looking Amy. His daughter's feeble body was trembling and appeared to be covered in sweat. Her skin was slightly pale and strands of her hair were matted to her forehead. Suddenly, all sluggishness aside, the only thing in his mind at the moment was his daughter's well being. "Jesus. Amy, what's wrong sweetheart?" He stepped towards his daughter, placing one of his hands on her shoulder and looking intently at her face.

Amy scowled at him. "I d-don't...feel so g-good."

Well, that was evident. She looked as sick as a dog. He scowled deeply, pressing his palm against her forehead, feeling for a fever. "You're burning up."

Teresa looked from her daughter to Christian. "I went to her apartment and once she came to the door, I could tell she was sick. I asked her if she wanted me to take her to the hospital, but she insisted on coming to you, and since I remembered that you were a doctor, I agreed it was the best decision."

"I'm glad you did." Christian stole a glance at Teresa, nodding his head. He focused his attention back on his daughter, wrapping his own arm around her shoulders and immediately leading her inside, her mother following behind. "Come on in sweetheart. It's okay. I'm going to take good care of you."

Amy lifted her chin and looked up at him, "I'm s-sorry if I w-woke you up, but I was already awake and I couldn't g-get to sleep like this. I didn't r-really know what else to do."

"Hey, I'm glad you came to me. Besides, there's not a chance in hell I'd be able to sleep knowing you're in this condition. Now stop worrying about me, and let me worry about you, all right?" She lightly nodded her head. He looked down at her, his brows furrowing in consideration. "Have you taken anything for this?"

She shook her head. "N-no. I r-ran...out of T-Tylenol. That's why...I came here...to you."

Upon noticing that she was wavering as she walked, he paused to scoop her up into his arms, "it's all right, I got you. You're going to be okay," he reassured her in a soothing tone of voice. She rested her head on his shoulder, clinging to him as a feeble child would to their father.

Teresa followed the two into his bedroom, watching fretfully as he gently laid Amy down onto the large bed. "What's wrong with her? Does she have the flu?"

He stole a glance over at the woman. "It's possible. She seems to be exhibiting some signs, but it's hard to say. I'm going to have to examine her first." He brought his eyes back down on his daughter, gazing intently at her. "I need to grab my bag. It'll only take me a minute. Just relax, all right?"

She lightly nodded her head. He left her side for a moment, striding towards his closet and retrieving the black medical bag he kept there. If worse came to worse, the only choice he might have would be to take her to the McNamara/Troy office and care for her there, and although her well being was top priority, he was hesitant about the idea. There was no way he would have his daughter near that asshole, especially not in her condition, but it might be their only option if she really didn't want to go to an emergency room. He returned less than a minute later, setting his bag down on the bed and crawling over to his daughter's side.

He glanced over his shoulder at Amy as he opened up his bag. "How are you doing sweetheart?"

She took in a shaky breath, a soft moan escaping her. "My-my head and...my throat hurt, and I f-feel really nauseous."

He scowled, pulling out a black stethoscope. "Are you having any difficulty breathing?" Turning back to her, he put the tips in his ears before setting the disc down on her chest, listening to her heart and lungs.

Amy nodded her head. "A...l-little. Not that much."

He removed his stethoscope a moment later, placing it behind his neck and sighing softly. "How long have you been sick sweetheart?" He reached back into his bag, pulling out a blood pressure cuff and proceeding to wrap it around her arm.

She shut her eyes, sighing softly. "F-for a f-few hours...maybe."

He nodded his head in regard, continuing his examination. After checking over her blood pressure, he checked her temperature, but he wasn't pleased with the readings he was getting. Taking her wrist in his hand, he gazed down at his watch, checking the rate of her pulse. He stole a glance down at his daughter, who was still fighting off a cold sweat. He scowled deeply.

"How's she doing?" Teresa who had been unusually quiet spoke up, taking a seat at the edge of Christian's bed and looking worriedly at her daughter.

Christian released Amy's wrist and looked over at the woman. "Not so good. She's got a pretty high fever." He reached back into his bag, taking out his pen light and leaning in to shine it into each one of Amy's pupils. "Her pupils are dialated." His brows furrowed in thought. As much as he tried to push the thought out of his head, it was possible that these symptoms might not be viral at all. They could be symptoms of cocaine abuse, but hadn't she told him that she wasn't _on_ coke? Had she lied to him?

Amy blinked at the beam of light and turned her head away, exuding a dry cough. "I'm c-cold."

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. A somewhat relieved sigh escaped him. There was no reason for him to be suspicious. She was simply cold. "I'll get you a blanket, just hold on." Amy nodded her head gently. He stole a glance at Teresa, "she's also having chills. I need to bring her fever down, otherwise, she could go into shock. Has she had a flu shot recently?" Leaving his place beside his daughter, he rose from the bed and strode back towards his closet, retrieving a blanket from the bottom shelf and hurrying back over to Amy's side.

"Not that I'm aware of," the woman replied.

After covering Amy up with the blanket and making sure she was snug, he returned to his position on the opposite side of the bed, reaching back into his bag and prepping a syringe to inject into Amy's body.

"Will that bring her fever down?" Teresa inquiried with a furrowed brow.

He watched the solution in the ether bottle fill the syringe. "It should, but with a fever this high, we should probably transport her to an emergency facility, and from there, fluids can be administered through an IV."

"C-Christian?" Amy murmured, reaching her arm out to him, her fingers lightly touching his backside. He turned to look over his shoulder, realizing that his daughter was calling him. Had she not have touched him, he wouldn't have even heard her calling out to him. He leaned in a little closer so he could hear her better. She brought her hand up and touched his shoulder, biting down on her bottom lip as tears began to well up in her eyes, "p-please...d-don't make me g-go to the hospital. P-please, I d-don't...want to g-go. _Please_."

His heart constricted in his chest seeing the tears in her eyes, as well as hearing the intent sound of her voice. He knew she was scared. He'd picked up on that ever since they'd gotten that paternity test done. He scowled down at her, "sweetheart, if your condition gets any worse, we might not have a choice."

She shook her head, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks as she took in a shallow breath. "Please," she pleaded softly. "I'm scared. P-please...don't m-make m-me go, please."

He sighed softly. "I know, but wouldn't it make things a little easier if I brought you to the McNamara/Troy office? You already know my partner, Sean, and you know me. We'll take good care of you sweetheart." She pursed her lips together, struggling to hold back the tears that continued to stream down her sweaty face. He hesitated before uttering his next words, "you'll be safe there. I promise." He placed a kiss to her heated forehead.

"Listen to him Amy. He's a doctor." Teresa spoke up. "If he says you need to go then you need to go."

Both Amy and Christian turned their heads at the woman's voice. It actually came as a surprise that those choice of words had come from this woman, Amy's adoptive mother. Was she defending his position? Or did she simply want what was best for her daughter? Well, either way, it was still reassuring to hear. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he remained serious. He felt someone tug lightly on his shirt, and realized that it was Amy. He gazed intently down at her.

"Please..." She croaked. "I r-really don't...w-want to go. Isn't there...something y-you can do? Here?"

He scowled, stealing a glance over at his open bag. "That's only as a last resort if this antiviral drug here doesn't succeed in bringing her fever down, but there's a very slim chance of that happening."

Amy turned her head back to Christian, asking in a meek but slurred tone of voice, "I'm not...g-going to...d-die, am I?"

He turned his attention back to his daughter, scowling deeply at the question posed to him as well as the sound of her voice. She was getting considerably worse by the minute. He shook his head. "Not if I can help it." Turning back to the syringe that was still in his hand, he removed the ether bottle from the needle and set it back into the bag. He flicked the top of the syringe, before turning back to Amy, "I'm going to need you to roll over for me."

She looked up suddenly, a whimper escaping her upon seeing the needle in his hand. "N-no...C-Christian, p-please."

"Amy, let him do it. If you don't, then you're not going to feel any better."

Christian stole a glance at Teresa before looking down at Amy. "She's right." Suddenly recalling back to that time at the hospital, he took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze and caressing it with the pad of his thumb. "Look, I know you're scared as hell of one little needle, but the longer we wait, the worse your condition will get. I can't allow that to happen. You mean too much to me. You can get through this, all right? I know you can. You just have to sych yourself up for it." He scowled, giving her hand another squeeze before releasing it and bringing his hand up to brush away a few strands of her hair, which had matted themselves to her forehead. As the seconds ticked by, he was growing more and more worried about the state of her well being.

She bit down on her bottom lip before gently nodding her head. "O-kay. I'll t-try." And with that, she turned over onto her side, her back facing him.

He gave her a reassuring smile. Turning his attention back to the task at hand, he sighed softly, a bit uncomfortable with what he was about to do, considering she was his daughter, but knew he had to be a professional about this. He tugged the waistband on her pajama pants and underwear down a few inches, holding them in place. He wiped the area with an alcohol wipe, but paused in sticking the needle into her hip, "Amy? This is going to sting a little, all right? Just try and relax." When she didn't reply, he simply went on and injected the solution into her hip. She turned her head away as he did so, but a painful whimper still managed to escape her. A few seconds later, he took the needle out of her hip and set the syringe aside for future disposal.

"That's my girl." He reached out and placed one of his hands on her arm, his fingers running up and down it in a gentle caress. "It's over now sweetheart. You can roll over." She went on and did so, wincing in pain as she laid flat against the mattress.

She looked up at him with a forced smile. "Am I...going to be okay?"

He nodded his head. "You seem to have come down with a touch of the flu, but you're going to be fine. You still have to give yourself some time to recover, which means plenty of rest and plenty of fluids." He sighed deeply. "You should probably get some sleep."

She nodded her head in regard. "I'll go..." She struggled to sit up, but it was evident that her strength was lacking. "Back to my...apartment," she stated in the same slurred speech she had been speaking in.

"No, Amy. Maybe you should stay here, so Christian can look after you." Teresa suggested.

Go back to her apartment? In her condition? She had to be crazy. Christian set both his hands on his daughter's shoulders, gently easing her back down. "I don't think that's such a good idea. You shouldn't be walking around in your condition." He stole a glance over at her mother, "your mother is right, it would probably be best if you stayed here tonight. It's better that I keep an eye on you incase something goes wrong."

Amy sighed deeply. "But, where am I...going to sleep?"

"You can have my bed tonight, I'll sleep on the couch." If she had the flu, he knew that he would most likely contract it too if he slept near her.

She shook her head, turning her head away and exuding another cough. "I can't...kick you out of your bed. I told you that...before, and I don't want to make you sick."

He shook his head. "You won't be kicking me out of my bed, and I can always wash the sheets later. Trust me, it'll be fine. Besides, I've already had my flu shot." When he had the reassurance that she was going to stay, he aided her in slipping under the covers of his bed and got her settled in. Once that was done, he returned his equipment to his bag, closed it up and set it aside. He pushed himself up from the bed and approached Teresa, who had risen to her feet as well and was starting slowly towards the door.

The woman stopped and looked up at him expectantly as he approached.

He stole a glance over at a peaceful looking Amy, who, to his allieviation had stopped shivering. "You were right, she does appear to have come down with the flu, but she should be fine in about a week or so. I did give her something to help bring down her fever, so it should already be taking effect. I'll make sure she gets back to her apartment tomorrow morning, but I think having her stay here tonight is the best idea. Don't worry, she's going to be fine."

Teresa nodded her head with an appreciative smile. "Thank you Christian. I really appreciate you taking care of her. I'm happy to see that she's in good hands. It's nice to know that she has someone here who loves and cares for her as much as I do."

The woman's words warmed his heart. He smiled softly, nodding his head in regard, glancing once again over at his daughter. "She means a lot to me. I know I haven't known her quite as long you have, but I love her. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost her."

"I'm so glad you can relate as a parent. It makes me feel better about the whole situation."

"I've...helped my partner in raising his kids over the years, so I guess you could say I've had a bit of experience in that area."

Teresa nodded her head in regard. "Well, I'll leave you my number. Please call me and let me know how she's doing in the morning."

He nodded, leading her into his living room. "Of course." Retrieving a pad of paper and a pen from a drawer in his kitchen, he returned and handed the items over to her. He waited patiently for her to take down her number. Once she had, they exchanged good-byes and he watched her as she exited his apartment.

A weary sigh escaped him as he stepped back into his bedroom. He cautiously approached Amy's bedside, knelting down to her level. Her chest rose and fell in a steady but relaxed manner, and it was then that he realized, she was fast asleep. Placing his hand on top of the hand that was resting across her stomach, he caressed the top of her palm with his index finger. Sean had been right all along. Teresa had seen the way he loved and cared for Amy that night, and she was actually accepting and trusting of him. It might have had more to do with the fact that he was a doctor, and apparently, the only one up at this hour of the night to care for Amy, but he didn't care. Things were beginning to look up. Maybe, just maybe, he could actually form a friendship with this woman.

Even though it had been on account of his daughter's illness, this actually ended up working out better than simply inviting the two of them over for dinner. He scowled down at his daughter, watching her as she slept. Hopefully, as time went on, he could coax her adoptive mother into testifying against Frank Gellar, but he knew that time was of the essence. It wouldn't be long before this asshole began harassing his daughter again. Well, he wouldn't have it. He would bust asses until this man was behind bars once and for all. No matter who he had to step on to get there. Leaning over, he placed a tender kiss to Amy's forehead, which to his relief was warm, but not as heated as it was before. Sighing softly, he cautiously pushed himself away from her bedside.

After retrieving a pillow, some sheets, and a blanket, Christian made his way back into his living room, making a bed out of the couch before stretching his large frame out on it, and settling in to get comfortable. Okay, so it wasn't the most comfy place to be sleeping, but there was no other alternative. Although he had had his flu shot, he knew there was still a possibility that he could catch it from her, depending on the type of flu she had contracted. All that mattered was that he had gotten her stable enough to fall asleep. Besides, she needed the bed rest more than he did at the moment. He shut his eyes, a weary sigh escaping him, determined to finally get some sleep. He'd be fine there for the night. If Amy needed him before he got up to leave for work in a few hours, all she had to do was call out to him and he'd come running.


	35. Dangerous Liaisons

"So your mom actually likes him now?"

Amy brought the _Us Weekly_ magazine down, which had been hiding her face from view, and set it face down beside her, looking over at Courtney. "Well, I don't know if she _really_ likes him, but from what I heard, she was actually being nice to him that night." It had been almost a week since she had contracted the flu, and although her throat still hurt and her fever was coming and going, she was feeling better than she had in the last few days.

Courtney was stretched out at the end of Amy's bed, lying on her stomach and facing the window that sat adjacent to it. An issue of _Cosmopolitan _was open before her. "Well, you told me you were pretty sick at the time, practically a walking zombie, and then Christian swooped in and saved you. I think your mom definitely owes him more than just a few brownie points." A light laugh escaped her.

A soft smile crossed Amy's face. "Yeah, she does," a weary sigh escaped her, slumping down until she was resting her head against one of the pillows at the head of her bed, "but the way I was feeling that night, I was ready to go see him even _before_ my mom came by. I guess I'm lucky my birth father is a doctor, huh?"

Courtney nodded her head. "Oh definitely, and hot to boot. Well, at least from what I've heard."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively at her friend's words. "What do you mean from what you've heard?" Oh God, she wasn't about to start up again with this whole attraction to her father, was she? She shuddered to think.

Courtney hesitated before exuding a sigh and turning onto her side, facing Amy. She propped one of her elbows up on the mattress, leaning her cheek on her hand. "Okay, don't hate me for bringing it up again, but after that talk I had with him on the phone, I'm still intrigued by him. I mean, by the sound of his voice, he's gotta be hot. Hey, you're his daughter, you should know, right? Tell me, is he as hot as he sounds?"

Amy cringed. "Oh God, Court!" She felt her stomach turn, and for a moment, she actually thought she might vomit. Bringing both of her hands up to cover her face, she groaned in disgust.

"_What_?"

She shook her head. "He's my fucking father! You shouldn't even be asking me this! I don't even want to _think_ about it. I've already thrown up enough these last few days, and now that it's stopped, I don't want it to happen again, okay?"

"All right, all right! Damn, forget I said anything." Courtney scoffed before lying on her stomach, and turning back to her magazine.

For a long moment, all Amy did was stare long and hard at her friend, wishing she knew what was going on in her head right now. Although a part of her was happy that they were finally getting time to spend together, a bigger part of her wished that she was hanging out with Kimber. At least she didn't have to worry about _her _going on and on about how hot her father was, because from what she'd witnessed, her father didn't even want her around anymore. "Hey Court? While we're on the subject of hating each other, you don't still hate me for what happened last time in drama class, do you?"

Courtney sighed softly, but didn't give her one look. "Well, I was pissed before, but not so much anymore."

Amy scowled. "I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't really myself that day. I hadn't gotten that much sleep the night before, and I hadn't had time to eat breakfast that morning either so that's why I was so bitchy." Okay, so that was a big fat lie, but there was no way in hell she'd openly admit to Courtney that she'd ducked out of class to snort some more coke in the girl's bathroom.

Courtney stole a glance over her shoulder at her, shrugging her words off. "Forget about it. Hey, we all get like that sometime or another, right? Just some of us more than others."

She exuded a deep sigh, picking her magazine back up and setting it in her lap, flipping absentmindedly through the pages. "So, how are things going with you and Matt?" She inquired, in an attempt to change the subject before they ended up getting into yet another fight.

Courtney was hesitant at first but eventually replied. "Good. Why do you ask?"

Her eyes narrowed in consideration. She knew that tone of voice. Lifting her gaze from the magazine, she looked intently over at her friend. "Court..." She cautioned.

"_What_?"

"Come on," Amy pressed.

Courtney exhaled sharply, and turned once again onto her side to face her. "All right, fine, you really want to know?" Amy nodded her head. "Okay, well, to put it lightly, they suck."

Her brows furrowed in bafflement. Upon feeling a slight tickle in her larynx, she cleared her throat. She brought one of her hands up, brushing aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen into her face. "What do you mean? I thought you guys were spending more time together. Wait, are you guys breaking up?"

Courtney pushed herself up to a seated position. "No. Damn, I hope not. Look, I really like Matt, and don't get me wrong, I love spending time with him, but it's gotten to that point where I need more, you know?"

The look of bafflement remained on her face. "Uh...not exactly. What exactly are you talking about here?"

Courtney went on to explain exactly what had happened the last time she was at Matt's house, how she'd been at the point of reaching her climax, and how rudely his parents had interrupted a close-to perfect moment. "By the third time, I couldn't take it anymore so I just left." She sighed wearily, looking woefully down at her lap. "Things just aren't the same as they were in high school, you know?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "That's because we're college girls now. It can't be like it was in high school, but I'm sure there's plenty of guys around campus that would love to get laid. The shallow ones. What are they called? Oh yeah, Frat boys. Shit Court, is sex all you think about?" She shook her head in disbelief, clearing her throat audibly.

"No!" Courtney scoffed, her brows stitching together incriminatingly at Amy. "Damn, what's with the attitude all of a sudden?"

Great. Here it comes. Another fight. She brought one of her hands up to her forehead, a migraine already taking form. "Nothing! I just actually started to like Matt, that's all. Well, as a friend. Look, I know how annoying it probably was for you that night at his house, I would be annoyed too, but if you really like him, why do you suddenly sound like you want to break-up with him?"

"I don't!" Courtney leaned back, using her elbows to prop herself up. "He's a great guy and I like being around him, but just once, I'd like to find a guy who was in touch with my needs. My _sexual _needs. Matt was close, but not close enough. If I could find a guy who could please me mentally _and _sexually, then I'd be in heaven. Oh, and sorry, Frat guys aren't going to cut it."

She sent a weird look in her friend's direction, wondering how the two of them had even become friends to begin with. The sex-crazed popular girl, and the opinionated, often melancholy outcast. God, what a pair they made. She shook her head in disbelief. "Well, if you think Matt is such a 'great guy,' I wouldn't cheat on him."

Courtney shrugged her shoulders, turning her head away and pulling out the magazine she'd found herself sitting on. "Who said anything about cheating on him? You know, he's actually not that bad when it comes to _oral_ sex." A smirk crossed her face.

She cringed, bringing both of her hands up to cover her face. "Please, Court. I don't want to know anymore. I think this conversation has gone far enough." A light laugh managed to escape her. Suddenly, before Courtney could utter a reply, the sound of the doorbell resonated through her apartment. She sighed softly, pushing herself up to her feet and starting out of the room. "And no offense or anything, but that kind of guy isn't going to just show up on your doorstep."

* * *

Christian smiled softly when the apartment door opened, and his daughter appeared before him. He stepped forward, leaning in and placing a kiss to her cheek. "Hey sweetheart." He looked intently down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, searching for any sign that she was still ill.

She looked rather dumbfoundedly at him. "Uh, hey. What are you doing here?" She stole a glance over her shoulder.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I just got out of work, but I thought I'd stop by and see how you were feeling. I'm sorry I haven't been by in the last couple of days, work has been...a little hectic lately." Especially since Sean had started working on yet another victum of, The Carver, a serial rapist which had inhabited South Beach a couple weeks ago, and had began preying on the more attractive males and females in the city.

She nodded her head, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "It's all right. I haven't really been doing much of anything, except lie around in bed and rest like you told me to. Even though I felt like shit, skipping school to be at home was a definite plus so..." A light laugh escaped her. She paused to clear her throat before continuing, "I'm starting to feel better though. My throat still hurts and I think my fever has been coming and going, but I've got some Aleve. My friend brought it over for me."

He nodded in regard, that soft smile returning to his face. "Good, I'm glad to hear it."

She stole another quick glance over her shoulder before turning back to him. He couldn't figure out if she was contemplating inviting him in, or if there was something else going on, but he would sure like to find out. Lifting her chin, she gazed deeply into his eyes. He was about to open his mouth to ask her what was going on, but before he could even get out one word, she wrapped both of her arms around his neck and pulled him into a warm hug. "I know I thanked you the morning after, but I just wanted to thank you _again_, for taking care of me."

He had to admit that he wasn't expecting that but willingly gave in to her embrace. His strong arms enveloped her much smaller frame, a soft sigh escaping him as he held her close. "I'm glad you came to me when you did, sweetheart. If you'd waited any longer..." He scowled, not even wanting to fathom the thought, "you could have been in a lot of trouble."

Nodding her head lightly, she exuded a deep sigh. "I know." Gradually, she pulled away from him, and tossed her head back, her blonde curls bouncing much in the same way Kimber's tended to do. "I'm lucky my dad is a doctor, because honestly...you're the only one I feel comfortable around, and considering my fear of doctors, the only one I trust with my life." She sent him a small smile.

A tender smile crossed his face. A part of him sympathized with her, but a bigger part of him was touched by her words. He knew perfectly well she had a fear of hospitals, though hadn't given much thought to the fact that it would also include doctors. Of course it would. How in the hell could he have overlooked that? He cocked his head, peering into the apartment. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

She blinked at the question, and bit down rather apprehensively on her lower lip. "Well, actually, I..."

"Hey girl, who's at the...door."

Christian's ears perked up upon hearing the familiar female voice. His eyes roamed away from his daughter's face, meeting with those of an alluring-looking brunette. Out of habit, he found his eyes trailing over her nearly flawless figure as she sauntered closer. A smug smile crossed his face. She was definitely toned, and from his keen eye, seemed to have curves in all the right places. It looked as if his night was just about to get better.

The brunette exchanged a look with Amy -- who exhaled sharply -- before bringing her eyes back to him, a smile curling her pouty pink lips. "Ooh, is he our entertainment for the night? Come on in gorgeous!" She gestured for him to step inside.

He chuckled softly at her choice of words, a smirk instantly crossing his face. He took his eyes off the brunette, looking expectantly over at a discouraged looking Amy. She crossed her arms comfortably over her chest, but nodded her head to show it was all right he come in. He was a bit hesitant, but eventually crossed the threshold and stepped further into the apartment. Amy closed the door and trailed behind him.

As Amy went on and plopped down on her brown, polyurethane couch, the brunette sauntered once again in Christian's direction. "You didn't tell me we were having a bachelorette party." She laughed lightly, stopping nearly half a foot away from him.

Amy's head turned suddenly at her friend's words, her eyes wide with horror. Almost immediately did she avert her gaze downward. "Oh God," she muttered under her breath.

Christian didn't notice his daughter's sudden mortification. Oh no, he was too lost in the splendor of this tantalizing brunette, who was doing quite a job arrousing him. His eyes lit up as a cocky grin spread across his face, "as much as I would love to provide you with that entertainment, I'm not a stripper sweetheart." A recollection flashed through his head. Wait, no. It couldn't be, could it? He had to find out for himself. His brows arched expectantly. "I'm guessing you must be Courtney."

Courtney's brows arched intriguingly, flashing him another smile. "You guessed right, I am, and _you_ must be Christian. I thought your voice sounded familiar." She extended her hand to him, "it's so good to finally meet you."

Christian grasped her hand in his with a squeeze, the smile remaining on his face. "The pleasure's all mine, and might I add, you're even more beautiful than you sounded on the phone." Oh yes, she was more than beautiful. She was the hottest piece of ass he'd seen in quite sometime. He could already feel an errection taking form in his pants, even from the mere touch of their hands. If he had it his way, they'd be touching with more than just their hands at the moment. Unfortunetly, that wasn't a possibility right now.

Courtney's cheeks flushed, her hand still remaining in his, "okay, that definitely scored you some points with me." She shook her head in disbelief, a smirk appearing on her face. "It's unbelievable, you're even more charming than you were then. Do you charm all girls like this or is it just me?"

He chuckled, suddenly feeling the errection already in his pants. His eyes narrowing slightly with his next words. "Only the ones capable of _arrousing _my interest."

Amy exhaled sharply and groaned, tilting her chin up towards the ceiling. "Oh God."

Courtney arched her brows in surprise. "Really? And just what exactly do you mean by _that_?" She stepped a little closer, leaning towards him and gazing deeply into his eyes. Their faces were a mere few inches apart.

He sighed softly, his heart pounding madly in anticipation. He could feel his body temperature burning hotter and hotter as the seconds ticked by, and his forehead begin to perspire. As if he wasn't already hard enough, the closer she got to him, the more he wanted to have her, here and now. It could merely be his imagination, but he had a feeling that she was just as arroused, if not more, than he was. He could almost feel the heat radiating from her body. Tilting his head to one side, he lowered his voice to a tone that only she could hear, "I mean, it's not everyday I find a woman who can get me hard...in only a matter of minutes."

She dropped her gaze to his crotch, a smirk crossing her face. Lifting her chin, she gazed back at him and exhaled a shallow breath. "Is that a fact?" She asked softly. Her eyes fixated on his lips. His eyes fixated on hers. Their mouths slowly began to inch closer to each other when suddenly...

"Oh my God! Courtney!" Amy cried audibly.

The sound of her voice startled the overly cozy pair, both he and Courtney immediately averting their attention away from one another to gape at her. Christian's brows furrowed inquisitively, exchanging a look with Courtney.

Courtney rolled her eyes dramatically. "_What_?" She snapped.

Amy's eyes shifted from Courtney to Christian and then back to Courtney. She narrowed her eyes incriminatingly, quickly stepping around the couch and grabbing her friend by the arm, dragging her towards the kitchen. "I need to talk to you, _now_."

"Ow! Hey! Amy! Let go!" Courtney cried, struggling to free herself.

Christian watched in bafflement as the two girls slipped out of the room. As tempted as he was to get involved, and give his daughter a piece of his mind for the way she was treating her friend, he held back. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what Amy's issue was at the moment. From the way she'd been looking at Courtney, it was almost as if the flirtacious little brunette had done something wrong. Well, in the world of Christian Troy, any woman who managed to get him off as quickly as Courtney had, could be as "naughty" as she ever wanted to be. There would certainly be no complaints there.

* * *

Courtney tugged a little harder on her arm until she'd freed herself from Amy's grasp. Talk about spoiling her fun. She'd been so close to satisfying her desires, and for what? Only to be interrupted yet again? She shot a glare in Amy's direction, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. "Okay, what the hell is your problem girl?"

Amy blinked back her astoundment. "What's _my _problem? What's _your_ problem? What the hell was that in there?" She demanded, gesturing back towards her living room.

Her brows furrowed incriminatingly. "What do you mean? We were just talking."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, that is total bullshit! I saw you two, I _heard _everything you were saying. You were all over him!"

She sighed wearily, raising her eyes up to ceiling. "All right, so maybe I was all over him, but if you were paying close attention, you would have noticed it wasn't just a one-sided thing. Come on, we both know it takes _two_ to tango."

A look of bafflement came over Amy's face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

This time, it was Courtney who rolled her eyes. "It _means _it takes two people to flirt, and incase you're just figuring it out, your dad is one hell of a womanizer all on his own."

Amy scoffed. Planting her hands firmly on her hips, her eyes narrowed irritably. "Yeah, he's my _dad_, and you don't have a right to be flirting with him. I mean, shit, he's old enough to be _your_ dad too. God, first you act like you don't even want to be with Matt anymore, and now you're hitting on my dad? What the hell is up with you lately?"

So she wanted to go there, did she? Big mistake. Courtney's voice escalated with her next words, inching closer to Amy. "What's up with _me_? After all that's happened the past two weeks, you think it's because of something _I_ did?" She shook her head in disbelief, glaring coldly back at Amy. "What about you? First, you completely dismiss me to be with your dad. Next, you go and get this huge make over and turn into some trashy blonde bimbo. Now, you're acting like you're on drugs. I didn't want to believe it at first, but after the way you flaked out on me in drama class, I'm actually starting to believe it, so don't you even stand there and ask me what's up with me because the real problem here, is you."

Amy's jaw went slack, her eyes widening in horror. "You bitch!" She cried audibly. Pulling her arm back, she lashed out and struck Courtney across the face.

She stared dumbfoundedly at Amy for a moment. That was the final straw. She wanted a showdown, she was going to get one. Her eyes narrowed menacingly on the other girl. "Oh, it's on now." Bringing her own arm back, she lashed out and gave Amy a slap of her own, harder than she had been slapped herself. It took Amy a few seconds to get over the shock of what she'd done, but when she had, she exuded an angry growl and charged at Courtney much like a raging bull at a rodeo clown.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Christian's voice suddenly boomed throughout the room.

Neither Courtney nor Amy acknowledged he had spoken. They were too caught up in their brawl. Amy pulled Courtney's hair. Courtney pulled hers. Both of them cried out in pain. They were ready to claw at each other with their nails, until Christian marched over and attempted to break it up.

"Hey! Hey!" He grabbed a hold of both of their arms, instantly seperating the two. "Break it up! Jesus, what the hell is the matter with you two? You're acting like you're on a God damn episode of Jerry Springer." He looked between the two girls, a look of bewilderment fixed on his face.

Courtney glared at Amy. Amy glared at Courtney. Finally, Courtney brought her eyes up to meet with Christian's, nodding towards the disgruntled girl before her. "Why don't you ask _her_, she's the one who started it, not me."

Amy's eyes widened in horror but quickly narrowed scornfully. She lunged at Courtney, but before she had a chance to do any harm, Christian stepped between the two girls and placed his hands on Amy shoulders, keeping her at bay. She exchanged a look with Christian before narrowing her eyes on Courtney. "That's bullshit! If you hadn't of been all over him, none of this would have ever happened! Fucking whore!"

As badly as Courtney wanted to lash out at Amy for that remark, she knew there was no way she'd get past Christian to attack, especially being as robust a man as he clearly was. Instead, she silently fumed and gave Amy a dirty look. It probably wouldn't do her much good to continue to attack Amy anyway. She might not be her friend anymore, but she was still Christian's daughter. The last thing she wanted to do was screw up whatever chance she might have with him.

"Stop it!" Christian snapped, looking sternly at his daughter, to which, she fell silent. His hands fell away from Amy's shoulders. Pivoting on his heels, he fixed his attention on a vexated Courtney, "would you mind giving me a minute or two alone with her?"

She sighed wearily, shaking her head. "That's all right, I'm gonna get out of here. There's no point in me sticking around anymore anyway." She turned to head out of the kitchen, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, urging her to wait. Turning back around to face him, she looked expectantly up into his eyes.

Christian stole a glance over at Amy before bringing his gaze to hers, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Don't go. Just give me a few minutes to talk to her. Trust me, I'll set her straight."

She was a bit hesitant but eventually nodded, forcing a small smile. "All right." She exchanged one more glare with Amy before stepping out of the room. Although Christian had told her he wanted to be alone with Amy, she couldn't help lurking just outside the room, if only to listen in on the conversation. She leaned against the wall that seperated the kitchen from the foyer. Christian might have been speaking slightly quieter to prevent her from hearing, but not quiet enough that his deep voice was no longer distinguishable.

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Me? Nothing! I didn't do anything wrong, _she_ did." Amy insisted.

"Did she? And what exactly was it, because from what I saw, you were just as much to blame for that little cat fight as she was. I want to know what this is really about Amy, and don't give me the same bullshit that she started it. There had to be a reason, and I want to know what that reason is right now."

There was a moment of silence, but Amy wasn't replying. Courtney listened closer.

"I am not leaving this apartment until you tell me." Christian pressed.

"Okay, fine. You two were all over each other, and you're my dad. She doesn't have the right to flirt with you like that."

"That's right, we were flirting. Since when is it a God damn crime to flirt? Christ, it wasn't as if we were screwing or had our tongues down each other's throats, we were having a harmless conversation."

_Damn straight. _Courtney thought to herself, a smirk crossing her face.

"You know what? Just forget it. I'm pissed about it, but---"

"Why _are_ you so pissed about it? Is it because I'm your father?"

"Well, _yeah_, but she's my best friend. Or at least she _used to_ be. I don't even know anymore."

Courtney couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped her, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Why don't you just come out and admit to the real reason you're pissed?"

"I'm pissed because she was hitting on you, and because she was talking shit to me a few minutes ago. If you would have heard what she said..."

He scoffed. "Please, let's stop beating around the bush, shall we? You want to know the real reason you're so pissed? You're pissed because for the first time, since you came into my life, I'm actually showing interest in someone other than you. The fact that she was hitting on me has nothing to do with it. It's sheer jealousy sweetheart. Admit it."

_Showing interest?_ Courtney felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. The smirk on her face turning into a full fledged grin.

"Oh God, this isn't happening again. Please God, tell me this isn't happening again." Amy spoke, her voice breaking with her last words. "Look, I'm not jealous, all right? I'm telling you the truth! The reason we got into a cat fight was because she was talking shit, about _me_. It didn't have anything to do with _you_."

"You just said you were pissed because she was hitting on me. That had to be the reason why you dragged her in here in the first place, to keep her the hell away from me. Or maybe there's something else you're not telling me. Hmm?"

Amy exhaled sharply. "Oh please, just _stop_. I don't want us to get into another fight, _please_. I can't handle it right now." There was a pause before she continued. By the tearful sound of her voice, she sounded as if she were already crying. "I'm telling you the truth. I'm your daughter, why can't you believe me? God, you know what? You're acting just like my adoptive mother!"

There was a brief moment of silence before Christian exuded a deep sigh, and uttered a reply. "I'm sorry. Frankly, I could give a shit what this was about, but the next time you see me talking to Courtney, or _any_ other woman for that matter, perhaps you should consider giving it a little more thought before you go making false assumptions."

Suddenly, the next sound Courtney heard were footsteps, which prompted her to quickly back away from the wall and plop down on the living room couch, making it seem as though she had been there the entire time. She looked over her shoulder upon hearing Christian clear his throat. He was the first one that appeared from the kitchen.

He approached the end of the couch where she was sitting. "I took care of it."

A smile curled her lips as she nodded her head. Pushing herself up to her feet, she met his gaze. He was hot. Damn, was he hot. Even hotter than she had anticipated him to be. Even the mere closeness of him caused her body temperature to soar and her heart to pound in anticipation. Matt certainly didn't have an effect on her the way Christian did, and she hadn't even known this man that long. "Thanks, I really..." She leaned a little closer to him until her body was brushing up against his, "_really_ appreciate it."

He gazed intently down at her as she gazed intently up at him. One of her arms slipped around his waist, bringing herself closer until their bodies were crushed against one another. He sighed softly, watching her intently with each move she made. Her gaze fixated on his lips, the urge inside her growing stronger and stronger. Her lips inched closer and closer, but her attention was quickly diverted at the sound of someone else audibly clearing their throat. She jumped, both she and Christian turning their attention towards the noise.

Amy was leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen, her arms crossed firmly over her chest and her eyes narrowed incriminatingly on Courtney.

An irritable sigh escaped her, turning her attention back on Christian. "I'm gonna go."

Christian exchanged a look with Amy, giving her a hard expression before meeting Courtney's gaze. "So am I. Can I walk you out?" He pivoted on his heels, gesturing towards the door.

She sent Amy a glare before turning back to him, and nodding her head in regard. "Of course." Without so much as bothering to say good-bye to Amy, or should she say her "ex-friend," she allowed Christian to lead her towards the door. However, she couldn't help but notice the long and lingering look he gave Amy on their way out. There was no mistaking what that look of his was conveying to the girl. If she knew what was good for her, she wouldn't dare interfere with the task at hand. Well, much to her delight, Amy _did _know what was good for her because she stayed right where she was, watching the two of them until they were out of sight.

It was a relief once she and Christian were actually alone in the apartment hallway. He looked down at her with a soft sigh. "You'll have to excuse my daughter. Unfortunetly, she wasn't raised with quite the same manners as her father." He went on to roll his eyes.

She shrugged his words off and sighed irritably. "I think after being her friend for over three years, I've gotten used to it."

"It still doesn't give her the right to treat you that way." He cleared his throat and took a step towards her, lowering his voice to a slightly heated tone, "after all, you weren't do anything wrong. At least from my close, _personal_ point of view of the situation."

Her heart beat a little faster as he neared closer to her. She gazed up into his eyes, taking in a shallow breath of oxygen. Tilting her head to one side, a coy smile curled her lips. She lowered her own voice, using the same tone he had. "You're right, I wasn't." She brought both of her hands up and pressed them against his chest, along with the rest of her body. Curling her fingers, she dragged them down the length of his body, clawing lightly at the fabric of the purple dress shirt that covered his large chest. Her smile grew into a grin upon feeling the errection in his pants and noticing the deep manner in which he was now breathing.

He sighed softly, watching her every move as intently as he had before. One of his arms snaked out and wrapped around her waist, grabbing her by the small of her back and urging her closer, if that were even possible. Suddenly, before she knew what was happening, he pressed his lips firmly against hers in a passionate kiss. She willingly responded. Wrapping both of her arms tightly around his neck, she opened her mouth wider to deepen the kiss, her breathing growing rapidly along with the beat of her heart. Damn, she imagined him to be hot, but to be an amazing kisser was another thing entirely. A pleasurable moan escaped her, feeling the bulge in his pants rubbing against her torso. He exuded a similiar moan, backing her into the wall that sat on the opposite side of Amy's apartment, but never breaking the contact their lips had.

Suddenly, just when she thought things were about to get even hotter, the ring of her celluar phone broke through the heated moment, playing the tune of Kelis' song, "Milkshake."

_No. No, no, no. Not again!_ She exhaled sharply, an irritable groan escaping her. _Not **now**! When the hell am I ever going to catch a break? _This moment was just too good to be true, and once again, it had been rudely shattered by yet _another _interruption, and an obnoxious one at that. Her first insinct had been to ignore the phone call entirely, but almost immediately, Christian broke the contact their lips had and averted his gaze downward, as if searching for the source of the sound.

"Unless the condom in my pocket has an XM radio equipped on it, that music isn't coming from _my_ pants." Christian quipped.

As irritated by the interruption as she was, Courtney couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped her. She stole a glance down at the bulge in his pants, sighing softly. Reaching into the back pocket of her dark denim, low-rise jeans, she pulled out her celluar. "It's me, sorry." His eyes shifted from the celluar--which was still resonating with the same melody--in her hand to her face, his brows arching expectantly. She scanned over the caller ID:

_Matt McNamara_

_Perfect timing_. She rolled her eyes, a weary sigh escaping her. Rather than answer it, she turned it off completely and returned it to the pocket of her jeans. She knew she was just delaying the inevitable, and probably would regret it later, but at the moment, she didn't really care. Hopefully, Christian hadn't seen the name of the person who had called her.

"Ex-boyfriend or telemarketer?"

She shrugged his words off, "neither." He stared expectantly back at her, obviously wanting her to elaborate further. She shook her head, "nobody special."

A smirk stretched across his face. "But apparently _I _seem to be."

She returned his smirk with one of her own. "And what makes you say that?"

Christian smiled smugly, placing his hands upon his hips. "It's no surprise. You clearly can't seem to get enough of me, sweetheart." She turned her head away and chuckled. "If that phone called hadn't interrupted the two of us, you would have pulled my dick out of my pants, and _we_ would have been giving the whole twelfth floor of this building one hell of a peep show."

Courtney flashed him a smile. "You're right, I probably would." Her smile faded, her eyes shifting in the direction of Amy's door, "but if Amy caught us, we'd both be screwed."

He cocked a challenging brow in her direction, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She laughed. "Oh come on, you know what I mean."

That smug smile returned to Christian's face, nodding his head. "I think I know _exactly_ what you mean." He stole a glance over his left shoulder, "conveniently enough, I live right next door. Perhaps it's better we take full advantage of this while we can, wouldn't you say?"

She turned her head in the same direction, noticing the other apartment, and exuding a hopeless sigh. Pushing her stimulated hormones aside, she fought to get out the words lodged in the back of her throat. "I wish I could, but I just remembered I have to be somewhere."

His brows arched in surprise. "After all the time you spent getting me off, you have to be somewhere else?" He crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "I'm afraid your actions speak much louder than your words, sweetheart."

Courtney shrugged. "I know I might seem like a tease, but I did sort of promise a friend I'd help them study tonight."

"Here's a suggestion. Why don't you tell your _friend_ you've got a study date of your own tonight." She cocked a questioning brow his way. His eyes trailed over her figure for a moment before once again finding hers, "when it comes to the human body, I think you'll find me to be one hell of a tutor. There's not a single aspect that I haven't _personally_ mastered."

Her brows arched in surprise, a smirk crossing her face. "Well you _are_ a doctor after all, so I can imagine you must be amazing at that." Her smile stretched into a grin. She paused for a moment, contemplating her decision, and then finally exuded a frustrated sigh. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a blue ball point pen. Taking his right hand in her left, she turned his palm face up. She clicked the top of the pen before inscribing her phone number across his palm. "Now I know where to find you, and you know where to find me."

He smiled smugly, stealing a glance down at his palm. "I'll make a note to put you on my speed dial before I go washing my hands."

She chuckled. "Good idea." Leaning in, she pressed her lips against his in a gentle but teasing kiss. One of her hands came down and rubbed at the bulge still present in his trousers. He inhaled deeply, moaning against her lips. "It was really nice _meeting_ you, Christian," she cooed into his ear. It took all of the strength within her to turn away from him and start down the hallway, but still managed to catch his last words even as she walked away.

"The pleasure was all mine, sweetheart."

It was tempting. Damn was it tempting, but something inside her was telling her it was wrong. As badly as she'd wanted to take him up on his offer, she _had_ made plans with Matt for later that night. Damn! Why couldn't she have made plans with him another night? Another night when her hormones weren't already raging for the narcissistic but intoxicatingly sexy, Christian Troy. However, she knew that breaking plans with Matt would only make things worse for their relationship. Wherever the hell it was headed, she didn't know, but as she'd told Amy, she still loved him. Okay, so maybe love was a strong word, but she knew that she loved the pleasure of his company. As far as the pleasure of his body went, well...she wasn't too sure about that. There was no doubt in her mind that Christian was probably better at sex than Matt, but beyond that, he didn't exactly strike her as being one to commit to anything. Especially not long-term relationships.

She wanted Christian, but she still wanted Matt. As for which one she wanted more, it was hard to say, but she'd find out. One way or another, she'd find out, and this time, she wasn't going to let a damn thing keep her from doing it.


	36. Vital Information

Amy leaned over her nightstand, holding a short plastic straw to her right nostril and rapidly inhaling one of two lines of cocaine. Her eyes fell closed as she raised her chin towards the ceiling of her bedroom, and exuded a deep sigh. This "high" she continuously obtained from the drug was amazing. It made all of her problems evaporate within a matter of seconds, leaving them nothing but a distant memory, and her biggest problem of the moment was, Courtney Price. The bitch! What had given her the right to hit on her father like that? Was she insane? No, she was far from insane. She was a slut! A slut who lived her life, wearing tight and provacative outfits, swaying her hips as she walked and flaunting her flawless figure wherever she went, and for what? All for attention.

She scoffed, feeling the rate of her heart increase in her chest, and a wave of dizzness swirl around her head. Well, she was tired of letting Courtney walk all over her, but more than anything else, she was tired of being her little side-kick. All these years, Courtney had overshadowed her, made her feel like the third wheel time and time again. She shook her head in disbelief at the thought. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The room was a wavering swirl of colors. She blinked a few times in an urge to focus more clearly. There had even been times when they'd been out somewhere, having a gay old time, but the moment a hot guy walked by, off Courtney would go, leaving Amy, once again, all by her lonesome. Well, their friendship was over with. If Courtney wanted a friend, especially one who played by her rules, she could go make friends with Britney Spears.

Holding the short plastic straw to her left nostril, Amy leaned over her nightstand once again to take another hit. Within seconds, the white line of powder disappeared. She brought one of her hands up to her face, wiping at her nose with her index finger and thumb. Lying back against her comfy mattress, she sighed softly, the sound of her pounding heart echoing in her ears. Her eyes fell closed once more as the ceiling started to shift. Beads of sweat broke out at her temples as her breathing grew heavy. A light laugh escaped her. Her hand came up to her forehead, wiping at the sweat that was already accumulating there.

Suddenly, a sound similiar to a ringing phone caught her ears. It sounded so far away, and even somewhat like a buzzer, but she still heard it. Her eyes came open, following the sound as it continued to drone on and on. She reached for her celluar phone -- which sat right next to the regular phone -- and flipped it open, holding it to her ear.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"_Hello_?"

There was no one there, but the ringing didn't stop. Pulling the celluar away from her ear, it was then she realized that she'd picked up the wrong phone. With an irritable sigh, she tossed the celluar aside and reached over to snatch the cordless phone off its base. She exhaled sharply, holding it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey Amy, it's Matt."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "Uh, Matt?"

"Yeah, Matt. Matt McNamara. Ring any bells?"

_Matt McNamara_. _Matt McNamara_. Why wasn't that name ringing any bells? Did she even _know_ a Matt? She couldn't remember. "Um, no, not really." Suddenly, a memory flashed through her head. "Oh wait, yeah. Matt, right. Sorry. I'm like kind of out of it right now. Sorry."

"It's okay. Listen, I hope it's all right that I call you. Uh, I got your number from Courtney."

She silently fumed at the name of her "former" best friend, but pushed her aggravation out of her head, for now, and tried to focus on the conversation. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she shifted on the mattress beneath her, pushing herself up to a seated position and leaning against the oak headboard. "Oh, no, it's cool. Just as long as you don't give this number out to anyone else. I just moved in here so I don't want some freaks calling me that I don't know." She laughed lightly. "Not that you're a freak or anything. Anyway, what's up?"

There was a pause from Matt's end before he finally spoke. "Well, I know you and Courtney are best friends, and I'm not trying to ruin your friendship or anything, but seeing as how you've known her longer than I have, you probably know more about her."

Oh great. This conversation was going to be about her least favorite person. She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah," was all she could say in response. Frankly, that was the last thing she wanted to talk about, unless of course he wanted to trash talk Courtney, but considering that he was her boyfriend, the possibility was probably slim to none.

"Look, I love her, and the last thing I want is for us to break-up, especially over something like sex, but in the past couple days, she hasn't returned a single one of my phone calls. For all I know she's probably screwing some other guy right now." He paused, and then posed his question. "She's not a virgin, is she?"

She sighed deeply, running her fingers through her short and wavy hair. Her eyes narrowed in vexation and her teeth clenched. She shifted restlessly on her mattress. Oh she could picture exactly what that bitch _was_ doing right now, but if it was screwing her father, she'd kill her. She'd pull all her hair out the first chance she got. "No, she's not a virgin. She lost her virginity a long time ago, back when we were in high school. She was voted 'Little Miss Popular' in our senior class, and guess who she ended up screwing? The guy who was voted '_Mister_ Popular.'" A scoff escaped her.

Matt exuded a heavy and somewhat irritable sigh. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. She hardly wants to do it with me anymore, and I'm guessing if the guys before me weren't up to her standards either, she probably treated them the same way. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I didn't ask her about her sex life back then so I wouldn't really know. The thought of my best--the thought of _her_ having sex with some random guy, wasn't a picture I wanted to have in my head. Besides, she was usually too busy with _them_ to even spend any time being my friend. Oh, no offense." She went on and pushed herself up to her feet. For a brief moment, she wavered on her heels, that dizziness looming over her head, stronger than before. Squaring her shoulders, she shook the feeling off before striding out of her bedroom and towards her kitchen.

"I want to know. How many boyfriends _has_ she had before me anyway?"

"Well, I haven't really been keeping track or anything. I don't know, let me see. Maybe, like, four or five. Something like that."

"Whoa, _four or five_? Holy shit! Are you kidding me?"

"I don't know. Why don't you just ask her? She and I aren't exactly in the 'talking' mood right now anyway. She pissed me off."

"I can't just ask her about this kind of stuff. I mean, jesus, I'm her boyfriend. Do you have any idea how much of an asshole I would look to her? And why exactly are you pissed at her? What the hell did she do to you?"

She rolled her eyes to glare up at the ceiling. Turning right, she entered her spacious kitchen. If Matt was siding with Courtney, Amy could wind up being without _any_ friends. Of course, there was always Kimber. "She was a total bitch to me earlier today. Oh, and not only that, but she had the nerve to hit..." Her voice trailed off as she paused in front of the sink. All of a sudden, she was compelled to tell Matt everything. Everything that had happened between Courtney and Christian. Not only would she be able to get back at Courtney for even hitting on her father, but if Matt knew about Courtney's heated attraction with Christian, Matt would be on _her_ side.

"Hit what?"

Amy snapped out of her thoughts. "Huh? What?"

"You said she had the nerve to hit something. What the hell did she hit?"

"Uh...well," she wiped at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, just before she reached up and opened one of the cupboards above the counter, "she hit _me_. We were fighting over something stupid, and she went and hit me. I dont know _what_ her problem is lately, but she's been being a major bitch. I mean, I apologized for what happened in drama class, but it's like she didn't even care."

"Well, I was planning on getting together with her tonight, but I been waiting around here for about an hour, and guess what? I haven't heard a damn thing from her. Looks like she doesn't give a shit about either one of us anymore."

"You got that right." She scoffed once again, retrieving a glass from the bottom shelf and shutting the cupboard door. Whirling around, she stepped towards her refrigerator, holding her glass under the ice dispenser, and then placing it beneath the one beside it, filling her glass to the brim with water. All this sweating had made her parched. "Look, Matt, I think there's something you should know. I didn't want to say too much about it, but..." She paused, bringing the rim of the glass up to her lips, and taking a guzzle.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Nothing, nevermind. It's stupid. I probably shouldn't have even brought it up. Forget it."

"No. No, you can't just start something like that and not finish it. If there's something I should know, and it has to do with my girlfriend then just cut the bullshit and tell me. I'm not going to play guessing games with you either, all right? Now tell me."

She rolled her eyes, leaning her back against the refrigerator. God, he was as stubborn as her father about this sort of thing. "Okay, fine. You really want to know? I'll tell you." She sighed deeply, her heart constricting in her chest. "When Courtney was here earlier, I asked her how things were going between you two, and she started talking about finding another guy. Another guy who could please her, well, sexually. I guess she thought you weren't good enough, at _that_."

"She said that?"

Amy took a large gulp of her water and pushed herself away from the refrigerator, heading back in the direction of her bedroom. "Well, she didn't really say that, but she told me that you weren't exactly great at it. Look, no offense or anything, I know you probably still think of her as your girlfriend, but back in high school, people used to call her a 'slut.'"

"You know what? I think I've heard enough, thanks." The vexation in his voice was evident.

"Sorry. I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but I thought you should at least know the person she truly is and was, and probably always will be."

Matt sighed wearily. "Listen, hang on a second, I got another call."

"Okay." She flopped back down on her bed, waiting rather impatiently for him to return. Taking another guzzle from her glass of water, she wiped at her sweaty forehead once more and sighed deeply. She shifted on the mattress beneath her, leaning her back once again against the headboard of her bed. Another minute later and she heard Matt's voice.

"Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"I gotta go, _Courtney_ is on the other line, and I think she wants to talk."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Okay, well, there is one more thing I think you should know, Matt."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

Suddenly, without thinking, the words came spilling out of her mouth. "She mentioned something to me about some guy. A guy that she met at a club last night. What was his name? Oh yeah! Christian. It could just be sheer coincidence that he has the same name as my father, but you never know. Especially when it comes to Courtney."

There was a brief moment of silence from Matt's end. Finally, he spoke, but from the tone of his voice, he clearly didn't sound too thrilled to hear what she'd said. "Thanks." Then, before she had a chance to say anymore, she heard a click and a dial tone. He'd hung up on her.

She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at it in bewilderment. Exhaling sharply, she shook her head in disbelief and placed the cordless phone back on its base. To be honest, she didn't know what more there was to say, but somewhere, deep down inside, a part of her was actually feeling remorse for Matt. If Courtney hadn't been such a bitch to her, and if she were even her friend anymore, Amy would hate to see the two break-up. Especially now that she was starting to think they made a cute couple. Well it was Courtney's fault that their friendship had been broken. Not hers.

Her head began to pound as she took a large gulp from her water glass. She seriously needed to push all thoughts of Courtney and her father out of her head. It wasn't doing her any good to stress about it. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose to her feet. Pulling back the covers, she crawled beneath them, and pulled them up and over her head. It was a bit too early to be going to bed -- especially at seven thirty at night -- and she wasn't exactly dressed for it either, but with the migraine taking it's toll on her nervous system, she figured she should at least _try_ and get some rest. Whether it got rid of her migraine or not, she could always call up Kimber and talk to her. That would get her mind off all this stress, wouldn't it?

After all, Kimber was the only _real_ friend she actually had left. To hell with what Christian thought about the woman. She was her friend whether he or anyone else liked it or not, and that was the way it would stay from now on.


	37. Oops, Christian Did It Again

( The next night )

A smile curled her scarlet red lips as Courtney checked her reflection, in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She was clad in a slinky and silk violet slip dress, which hugged her curves in all the right places. The bodice of the dress was cut low. Low enough to expose the tops of her ample breasts. The color was a great contrast to her honey colored skin. On her feet, she wore some black, three-inch, open-toed sandals. If looks could kill, any man that Courtney sauntered by would have a heart attack and drop dead. Oh, she was well aware of how hot she looked, and that was the reason why she'd picked this outfit.

She brought both of her hands up to her head, fluffing her hair a few times. Tonight was going to be amazing. She just knew it. There was no stopping her now. She was an insatiable feline and tonight, she was on the prowl. Turning away from the mirror, she stepped towards the ebony dresser that sat against the wall, just inside the door. She stole a glance in the round mirror that sat on top, checking her eye make-up. Reaching into her small black Louis Vutton purse, she fished out her mascara, applying a little more to her already long lashes. Once that was done, she reached back into her purse, pulling out her cell phone and noticing she had a new voicemail message. A part of her was expecting it to be Christian, but her hopes fell when it wasn't.

It was from Matt.

_"Hey Courtney, it's Matt. Listen, I don't know what the hell happened last night, but we really gotta talk. Just give me a call whenever you get around to it, okay? See ya." _

Courtney sighed wearily, flipping her celluar closed. As much as she felt partially guilty for the night before, she couldn't deal with this right now. She had things to do, and damn it, no one was going to keep her from doing them. Dropping her celluar back inside her purse, she slung it over her right shoulder, grabbed her keys off her dresser, and headed out of her house. The anticipation inside her grew stronger and stronger as she pulled onto the road, and headed towards her chosen destination. She found herself gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, as her heart pounded madly in her chest. Her foot pressed firmer against the accelerator, but not too much. She was impatient to get there, yes, but the last thing she wanted was to get stopped for a ticket.

Twenty minutes later, she was riding up in the elevator to the twelfth floor of the apartment building, but she wasn't even in the elevator for more than ten seconds when her celluar started ringing. She reached into her purse, pulling it out and checking the caller ID. _Here we go again_, she thought to herself, exuding a heavy sigh. Flipping it open, she placed it to her ear, trying to make herself sound as casual and friendly as possible. "Hi Matt."

"Yeah, hey. Uh, did you happen to get my voice mail by any chance?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. I would have answered, but I was in the shower."

"I left that message over an hour ago. Why didn't you call me back?"

Her brows furrowed incriminatingly, not liking the spiteful tone of his voice. "I'm sorry Matt, but I was busy."

"Busy doing _what_?"

"I told you, I was taking a shower. What did you think I was doing? It takes me more than a half hour to take a shower. A girl has to get dressed and dry her hair you know."

"Yeah, right. Look, we _really_ need to talk."

"About what? You sound weird, Matt. What's going on?"

"You want to know what's going on? You haven't been returning my calls, and the only time you do call me is to cancel our dates. You know, if you're not going to be here, don't say you're going to be here. We hardly see each other anymore, and when we do, all we do is kiss. We don't even have sex. Look, if you don't want to be with me anymore, just say it, all right? I'm tired of playing games with you. I want to know, once and for all, where the hell you think this relationship is going. That way neither one of us will have to waste our time anymore."

Courtney's heart constricted in her chest, a huge amount of guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders. "I want to be with you, Matt. I really do. I know it might not seem like it right now, but we all have lives. I mean, I love you, but my _whole world_ doesn't revolve around you, and as far as sex goes...that's kind of hard to explain."

"What? I'm not nearly as good as the guys you screwed back in high school? Well, I'm sorry I can't please you half as much as they could, but I don't go around screwing every girl in my class either."

She blinked back her astonishment, her brows furrowing inquisitively. "Where are you getting all this from?"

"Amy told me."

"She _what_?" Her stomach lurched, and for a moment, she thought she was going to be sick. Beads of sweat broke out at the nape of her neck, and her heart began to pound all over again. Only this time, it was out of panic rather than anticipation. She should have known Amy of all people would do this to her. She could be a major bitch at times, but to do something like this was just low. "Tell me. What exactly did she say?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just that you've slept with about four or five guys before me. Oh, and she mentioned something else. She told me you met another guy, and wouldn't you know it, his name just happened to be Christian."

Her eyes widened in horror. The sound of her pounding heart echoed in her ears, drowning out every other sound around her, including the ding of the elevator bell as it reached her chosen floor. She wavered on her heels for a moment as the lift came to a stop, and the doors parted to let her out. Slowly, she willed herself to move forward and stepped out of the elevator, just before the doors shut on her.

"Is that true?" Matt pressed. "Do you have feelings for my uncle?"

Courtney sighed wearily, placing her free hand on her hip. Okay, if Amy wanted a war, she was going to get it. She wanted to play hard ball, well she could play that game too. "No! I haven't even _met_ your uncle, remember? Matt, she's lying. You can't believe anything she tells you. Okay, yes, I've had boyfriends in the past, but I wasn't a whore. Come on, you know how weird Amy's been acting lately. You even told me you thought she was on drugs, and after the way she acted yesterday, I really think she is. You can't trust anything she says right now."

Matt was quiet for a long moment, and for a minute, she feared he might have hung up on her. Then, at long last, he spoke. "So that fight you two had the other day...you didn't hit her, did you?"

"Well, yeah, I did hit her, but she was the one who hit me first. She got really defensive when I told her she was on drugs, and I told her she looked like a blonde bimbo now, but come on, even you had to agree that make over of hers was crazy. She's got some serious issues lately."

"Yeah, I guess she does."

"Come on, Matt. I love you. You know that I do. Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you let me make up for last night, and basically these last few days?"

"Well, what exactly did you have in mind?"

"You'll just have to wait and see. Let's spend tomorrow night together, just the two of us. My dad will be working late. We can do what we did last time...and a whole lot more."

There was a pause from Matt's end before he spoke. "You really mean that?"

"Yes, with all my heart."

"Okay. I'll uh...I'll let you know."

"All right, bye baby."

"Bye."

Snapping her celluar closed, an allieviated sigh escaped her, her heart slowly but surely beginning to return to a normal and calm rate. She'd dodged a bullet with that one, but it wouldn't stop her from going about her plans for the night. If Amy wanted to play with fire, well, there was only one thing for Courtney to do. Fight fire _with_ fire. Shoving her celluar back inside her purse, she squared her shoulders and strolled down the broad hallway. She stopped when she reached a door, the number on the wall beside it reading: **_12b_**.

Giving her hair a much needed fluff, she found her heart picking up speed once again. Bringing her hand up, she rapped intently on the door. She could nearly contain her excitement. Not more than a minute later did the door open, and there he stood. The tall, dark, and handsome, Christian Troy.

He seemed rather surprised to see her standing there, which made this visit of hers all the more fun for her. A split second later, that surprised expression faded and a smug smile crossed his face. "Courtney. Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

A grin curled her lips. "Well, after the other night, I just couldn't stay away."

His smile stretched into a grin, his eyes trailing over her figure for a moment. "I had a feeling you couldn't." He opened the door wider, gesturing her inside. "By all means, come on in."

"Thank you." She crossed the threshold and stepped inside his dimly lit apartment. Soft electronica music -- which could have easily been mistaken for classical or jazz -- resonated throughout the space. The tune happened to be, "Nothing's Burning" by Télépopmusik.

"Can I offer you a drink?" He inquired, shutting the door behind her.

She stole a glance over her shoulder, "no, thanks. I'm good." To be honest, she was more hungry than she was thirsty, but her hunger wasn't for food. It was for something else, something more. Her eyes roamed around, surveying her surroundings. This guy clearly knew how to decorate, and the motif of the place clearly spoke volumes about him. "Nice digs. Compared to Amy's place, her apartment doesn't hold a candle to yours. I'm impressed." She perched herself on the back of his white couch, looking over at him with a smirk.

Christian strolled towards her, his eyes roaming over his living room before landing on her face. "What can I say? Being a widely successful, highly payed plastic surgeon certainly does have its perks."

She nodded her head. "It definitely does, but something tells me you'd still get more than your share of perks even if you weren't a plastic surgeon." Her eyes trailed over his figure. Tonight, he was clad in a black dress shirt and gray slacks. The first few buttons on his dress shirt were unbuttoned, revealing the dark and stunted hairs on his chest beneath. "Looking as gorgeous as you do." Damn was he looking gorgeous that night.

A smirk stretched across his face, stepping closer to her until they were two feet apart. Once again, she noticed him sizing her up. "Well, gorgeous men tend to attract gorgeous women, such as yourself. A nearly flawless figure rarely goes unnoticed." His eyes roamed away from her face, admiring her ensemble as if she were a beautiful portrait hanging in a museum. "I'm assuming the reason you got all dressed-up tonight was for _my_ benefit, and not someone elses." He met her gaze once again.

"Of course." Courtney crossed her right leg over her left, just before placing her right hand on her thigh, allowing it to slowly slide up and down it in a teasing fashion. She tilted her head to one side, a light laugh escaping her, "who else would I have gotten all dressed-up for?"

He sighed softly as he watched her hand slide along her thigh. Taking another step towards her, he covered the short distance between them until he was half a foot away from her. "I've always loved a woman who takes the initiative to please me."

"Oh I can please you. I can please you _real good_ baby. Unfortunetly, it's been a long time since I've found a man who can please _me_." She lifted her chin and looked up at him, gazing deeply into his eyes. In turn, he gazed back into hers. "Do you think I'll ever find that man, Christian? A man with all the right moves? A man who knows exactly what a girl _needs_ when it comes to sex?"

For a moment, all he did was stare at her, almost as if he were lost in a daydream. Suddenly, he leaned in, placing both of his hands on either side of her body, using the back of the couch for leverage. He held her gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Definitely, and tonight happens to be your lucky night sweetheart, because he's right in front of you."

Courtney's heart pounded excitedly in her chest, beads of sweat breaking out between her breasts, and along the nape of her neck. It was his closeness that was making her temperature rise. She could feel his body heat radiating in her direction, and it felt good. She trembled slightly, taking in a shallow breath of oxygen. She brought one of her hands up, placing it against the nape of his neck. "Oh he is, is he?"

His lips curled into a smile. "Satisfaction guaranteed...or your money back."

She flashed him a smile. "Mmm, I think I might just take you up on that offer of yours." She averted her gaze downward, noticing the bulge that had formed in his pants.

"Well, better late than never."

She leaned in, her lips brushing lightly over the curve of his neck, and deeply breathing in the scent of him. A pungent and utterly manly aroma of cologne filled her nostrils. He smelled good, damn good. Her hand fell away from his neck as she pulled back. "You know, you never did tell me."

His brows arched expectantly. "Tell you what?"

Her lips twisted into a smirk. Taking his left hand in her right, she placed it on the heated flesh of her chest, right over her pounding heart. His hand flattened against her skin, the heel of his palm lingering over the tops of her breasts. He inhaled a deep breath as she moved his hand downward. Her eyes fell closed, feeling the warmth from his palm radiate down over her breasts, mid-section and belly. She stopped his hand when it came to rest over her crotch. Opening her eyes, she met his gaze, noticing the beads of sweat that had broken out at his temples and forehead, and the suddenly heavy manner in which he was breathing. "Do you like my dress?" She murmured.

Christian sighed softly. His opposite arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist, urging her towards him by the small of her back. Much in the same way he had grabbed her the night before. "Yes," he spoke softly, "but not half as much as I'd like what's underneath it, sweetheart."

At this point, her heart was hammering in her chest. A part of her hadn't expected him to grab her as quickly as he had, but it only made her want him even more. With his body pressed against hers, she could feel his errection brushing against the inside of her thigh. She took the hand that she'd placed onto her crotch a moment ago, slipping it beneath the bottom hem of her dress and under the waistband of her thong. She breathed a heavy sigh, her eyes falling shut at the feel of his warm flesh against her loins. Wrapping her opposite arm around his neck, she tilted her head up to whisper in his ear. "Do you like that?" She could see him watching her out of the corner of his eye, and feel his warm breath along the curve of her neck.

He pulled his head back until they met each other's gaze. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips firmly against hers, kissing her passionately. Wrapping both of her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer as she opened her mouth wider to deepen the kiss. She moaned passionately against his lips. Her hands trailed down over his shoulders, finding the buttons that were still in tact on his shirt. She worked quickly in getting them unbuttoned. He broke the contact their lips had, beginning to kiss and suck hungrily at the skin along the curve of her neck. She tilted her head back and shut her eyes, moaning softly. His lips felt amazing upon her heated skin, more than she ever anticipated.

Suddenly, the track that was playing softly over Christian's unseen sound system changed, and began playing the song, "Hollywood On My Toothpaste" by the same artist, Télépopmusik. The tune was almost completely drowned out by the sound of her rapid heartbeat, and their heavy breathing.

Placing both of her hands on his shoulders, she forced him to back up a few inches -- which was a rather difficult task, considering he weighed twice as much as she did -- until she was on her feet. Her motion caused him to pull away from her, a bewildered expression crossing his face. A smile played at the corners of her mouth, as she slipped her fingers beneath the spaghetti straps of her dress, and allowed it to drop to the floor. A smug smile crossed his face, but she didn't give him the chance to speak. She was on top of him a split second later, both of her arms wrapping around his shoulders, and both her legs around his waist. She pressed her lips against his in a passionate kiss. "Take me Christian..." She murmured against his lips. "Right now."

He didn't need to be told twice, he was already moving swiftly towards his bedroom. One of his hands was cradling her butt, while the other was placed at the nape of her neck, his fingers slipping through her soft strands of hair. He moaned against her lips, turning his head and kissing the skin of her neck. She shut her eyes once again, her chin arching towards the ceiling. The two tumbled onto his bed. He nearly knocked the air out of her upon impact, considering how big of a man he was, but she quickly adjusted. He leaned down, kissing her just as firmly and passionately as he had before. Turning his head, he sucked hungrily at the skin of her neck before placing his lips upon the tops of her breasts, and sucking at the heated skin there. She could feel his hunger with each kiss. Damn was it amazing!

Courtney's back arched off of the mattress, her chin lifting towards the ceiling. A pleasurable moan escaped her lips. Beads of sweat broke out along her backside and the nape of her neck. He moaned softly, lifting his head up and meeting her gaze for a moment. Quickly, he rid himself of his shirt and tossed it aside. Courtney's chest heaved up and down as she watched him continue to get undressed, unbuckling his belt, and unzipping his pants. It wouldn't be long now. Even in the dimly lit room, she could see his hard shaft bulging out of his underwear. Leaning in once again, he pressed his lips against the skin around her collarbone, attacking it with kisses. While he was doing that, his hands found their way to the waistband of her thong, nearly ripping it off in an urgency to rid her of it.

She exhaled sharply, feeling the skimpy piece of fabric glide down over her thighs. He took the liberty of spreading her legs apart and lowered his head, his tongue beginning to slide across her clit, in a series of ever-changing patterns. It felt as if he were writing the alphabet, but with his tongue. She was familiar with the routine because the last guy she'd been with -- before Matt that is -- had used it on her, but that guy was an amateur compared to Christian. Closing her eyes, she arched her back towards the ceiling, and moaned passionately. "Oh yeah baby..." She murmured.

"You like that, huh sweetheart?" Christian inquired, his voice muffled on account of his current position.

Courtney bit down on her bottom lip, her nails digging into the fabric of his comforter, "mmm, yeah. Oh yeah. Keep going baby. Keep going."

He seemed more than happy to fullfil her request, and kept going. He was half way through the alphabet when she felt as if she couldn't take anymore, and finally reached her orgasm. Lifting his chin, he brought himself back up the length of her body. He gazed down at her. She gazed back up at him, trying to catch her breath, and wondering what he was about to do next. Then, suddenly, he proceeded to slip his underwear off, and after sliding a condom onto his stiff shaft, he positioned himself on top of her.

This was it. It was going to happen. Just the way she wanted it to.

She placed her hands back on his shoulders, crying out the minute he plunged himself inside her. Her nails dug into the heated skin of his back as he aggressively began thrusting into her. She tilted her head back, opening her mouth and screaming out in pleasure with each pelvic thrust he payed her. Wrapping both her legs around his torso, she began to claw at his backside, deep enough that there would be marks left behind. Her walls tightened around his shaft, the muscles in her legs constricting in the process. Damn, she imagined Christian to be more experienced than Matt, but to be an animal in the sack? That was something entirely different, and without a doubt _better_ than anything she'd had in the past. His moans were so passionate, they sounded almost like growls, but the sound only managed to make her even hornier.

Their bodies blazed hotter and hotter, each of them covered in sweat, and each of them breathing as heavily as the other. He dipped his chin and pressed his lips firmly against hers, his thrusts slowly beginning to grow less aggressive, but nevertheless, still rapid. She opened her mouth wider to deepen the kiss, her body trembling against his own. Her tongue plunged inside his mouth, massaging his tongue with her own in a heated and wet french kiss. He moaned against her lips, breaking the contact a split second later and placing his lips to her neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin. She moaned audibly, her legs tightening around his torso as she felt her climax rising quickly to the surface. Feeling his tongue slide across the top of her breasts, she arched her back off the mattress, inhaling a shallow breath and moaning softly.

This was perfect. Everything about it was perfect. She'd waited so long to find a man who could please her, and now she'd found him. The one, the only, Christian Troy. So he might have had more than his share of women before her, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she had him right now, and all to herself. There were no interruptions as there had been at Matt's house, and for crying out loud, she was on her way to a second orgasm. It was just too good to be true. She prayed it wasn't a dream.

Christian lifted his head from her chest, taking one of of her thighs in his hand, almost as if he were trying to get a better position as his thrusts turned aggressive once again. Both of them screamed with pleasure. Courtney's walls tightened once again around his shaft, feeling as though she were about to explode. She opened her eyes, lifting her head up from the pillow beneath it and leaning in to kiss his shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar looking figure across his bedroom. She turned her head suddenly to see what it was, but nothing could have prepared her for who she saw.

There. Standing only ten feet away from Christian's bed, with a stone-cold look upon his face -- unlike anything she'd seen before -- was Matt.

She gasped, "Matt!"

"Matt?" Christian's brows furrowed in bewilderment, his thrusts beginning to slow. He stole a glance over his shoulder, his jaw going slack as he saw the young man standing there. "Matt!" He quickly pulled himself out of Courtney, pulled his underwear back on, and rolled off of her.

Matt looked between the two of them, his features remaining cold. He shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "I don't believe this." Before Courtney or Christian had a chance to formulate some kind of reply, he turned around and started towards the door.

Courtney and Christian exchanged a look before she jumped up from the bed, and dashed after him, leaving behind a dumbfounded looking Christian. "Matt! Wait! Matt!" She shouted, but he didn't bother turning around. In fact, he only ignored her pleas and continued walking. She stopped short half-way towards the door, realizing that she was stark naked. Retrieving her slip dress from the floor of Christian's living room, she swiftly pulled it back on and chased Matt out the door. However, a part of her already knew no amount of begging, pleading, or lying would save what she'd just lost.


	38. Just A Slut

"Matt! Matt, wait!" Courtney cried, dashing down the hallway after him. "Please! Matt!" She caught up to him just as he was about to step onto the elevator. He froze mid-step, exuded a weary sigh, and slowly turned around to glare at her. Well, at least he had stopped, which gave Courtney an ounce of hope, if nothing else.

"How could you do this to me? How could you just lie to me like that? You told me you hadn't even met my uncle, and now I walk in to find you screwing him?" He demanded.

She sighed sadly. "I don't know. I'm sorry, it just happened."

"Oh please, that's bullshit."

"No, Matt, I swear. I didn't expect for this to happen, it just did. We were both attracted to each other, and somehow, we just got so heated that--"

Matt threw his arms up in the air, waving his hands before him. "Shut up! All right? Just shut your mouth! I don't want to hear anymore. This whole God damn relationship has been nothing but bullshit, but in a way, I'm kind of relieved that it's over."

Her heart constricted in her chest at his choice of words. As much as she tried to deny it, they did sting. She tried to formulate some kind of reply, even if she knew he didn't want to hear anymore out of her, but before she could even get a word out, he was already turning back around to summon the next available elevator.

"Matt!"

Both she and Matt turned their heads at the sound of Christian's voice. He was striding towards them, clad in the clothes he had been wearing earlier that night. She was surprised he had gotten dressed so fast, but considering the situation, she understood his position. It had been awkward for both of them. Matt fixed his eyes on Christian in an icy cold glare, but he didn't bother saying a word to him. Instead, he turned his attention back on the elevator before him.

"Matty!" Christian exchanged a look with Courtney. "What the hell is going on?"

Matt sighed irritably, turning back around to face the two of them. He stole a glance at Courtney before fixing his eyes back on Christian. "Gee, that's a good question. Why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He stole a glance at Courtney before turning his head and looking back over at Matt, "look, you obviously caught me at a bad time, even if the sex I just had with Courtney here was hardly bad in itself, but you're a man Matt. I know you've been there once or twice yourself, hmm?" A chuckle escaped him, stepping forward and placing a hand on Matt's shoulder.

Almost immediately did Matt swat Christian's arm away from his shoulder, and from the vengeful look in his eyes, Courtney could sense that Matt wanted to hit the man, and hard. "Don't _ever_ touch me again," he snarled.

Christian's brows furrowed incriminatingly, stealing a glance over his shoulder at Courtney. "All right, what the hell is your problem? So I left my God damn door unlocked, and you walked in on me screwing some girl, what's the big deal?"

She exchanged a look with Matt. Her heart pounded madly in her chest, fearing what Matt would do, but more importantly _say_ next. Matt turned his fury back on Christian, shouting his next words, "she's not just any girl, she's my _girlfriend_ asshole! You were screwing my girlfriend! And yeah, considering I'm her boyfriend, it is a big deal to me."

Christian froze, a dumbfounded expression appearing on his face. Slowly, he pivoted on his heels and looked expectantly over at Courtney, who cringed. His expression suddenly changed, and his features became somber. Grave. "I didn't know she was your girlfriend. If I remember correctly, she informed me she didn't _have_ a boyfriend."

She sighed wearily, turning her head away and avoiding eye contact with the man.

Matt looked from Christian to Courtney, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Well isn't that a surprise."

Once again, she felt her heart constrict in her chest. His words were harsh, but deep down inside, part of her felt that she actually deserved them. It was hard enough to believe that he, of all people, had walked in on the two of them having sex, but the more he talked, the worse things were becoming, and any ounce of hope she had for the two of them was rapidly slipping away.

Christian turned his attention back on Matt, his brows furrowing inquisitively. "Why did you decide to come by tonight anyway?"

"Besides the fact that you haven't been returning my calls? After Courtney denied that she had feelings for you, and after everything that Amy told me, I decided I'd come over and confront you myself. A part of me trusted you would at least be up front with me about it, but seeing as how I just walked in on you screwing my girlfriend, I think I know pretty much all I need to know."

"What _Amy_ told you? What the hell did she say?"

"If you really want to know, why don't you try asking her yourself." Suddenly, the elevator dinged, and the mechanical doors parted. Matt whirled back around to step inside the elevator, but froze mid-step and turned back around to face Christian. His voice reverberated throughout the hallway. "You know, as if it wasn't bad enough finding out that you slept with my grandmother, and now you sleep with my girlfriend? I don't know who the hell you are anymore, but you better stay the hell away from me."

Courtney turned her head and looked over at Christian. He stood there with that same dumbfounded expression on his face as before. She turned her head back just in time to see Matt step into the lift, and instantly dashed towards him before the doors could close. "Matt! Wait! Please! Don't--!"

"Hey! That goes for you too! Just stay the hell away from me!" He spat. She scowled, staring dumbfoundedly back at him. "I guess Amy was right all along. You are just a slut."

She scowled, her gaze falling to her feet in discouragement. Then, before she or Christian could say anymore, the elevator doors closed and Matt disappeared from view. Slowly, she willed herself to turn back around, only to come face-to-face with an immensely vexated Christian. She should have seen that coming. A woeful sigh escaped her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but...I'm sorry. I just wanted to find a man that could satisfy me, sexually, but Matt couldn't do that. That's why I came to you. I know you wouldn't have slept with me if you knew I was dating him."

"Look, Matt may not be as experienced with sex as I am, but incase you haven't gotten the memo, he's my God son, which makes me his Godfather!"

"I know, I know and I'm sor--"

His brows stitched together in consideration. "You _know_?" She cringed, dropping her gaze to her feet. "You mean to tell me that you knew I was his Godfather this entire time, and yet you still insisted on coming over tonight in the hopes of screwing me?"

"Damn, I'm sorry, all right?" Courtney sighed wearily, stealing a glance up at his face before turning her head and staring down the hallway. "I shouldn't have come here."

Christian took a step towards her, planting his hands firmly on his hips. "It's a little late for that sweetheart. Now get you shit, and get the hell out of my apartment!" Without giving her the chance to debate, he turned on his heels and started back in the direction of his apartment.

Her eyes narrowed irritably as she watched him walk off in the opposite direction. As much as she wanted to hate him right now, she hated herself more. She didn't think that could be possible, but she never imagined her plans for the night to backfire on her in the manner that they had. Brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face, she squared her shoulders and trailed behind him. Once she arrived back at his condo, she entered his bedroom, retrieved her thong and pulled it back on. Christian didn't bother speaking a word to her, nor did he even glance in her direction as she did so.

After grabbing her purse off the couch, she slowly started towards the door, but stopped half-way there and turned back around to face him. "So after all that, that's it?"

He was on his way to his bathroom, but stopped when she spoke. Exhaling sharply, he whirled back around to glare at her. "I think you've done more than your share of damage for the night, don't you?"

She scoffed. "Look, I would appreciate it if you didn't mention any of this to Amy. We may not be friends anymore, but I don't want her coming after me with an ax either." Although she might not admit it to herself, a part of her was hoping Amy would get off whatever drugs she was on, and come to her senses. Maybe then they could become friends again, but that was a big maybe.

"I may be a lot of things, but I'm not an idiot. You may have screwed up my relationship with Matt, but I'm sure as hell not letting you ruin that one. Now are you going to walk the hell out that door, or do I have to personally escort you there myself?"

She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, and shot him a glare before marching towards the door. "I'm going!"

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath. Yanking the door open, she slammed it shut behind her. As she started back down the hallway towards the elevators, she was surprised to find a single tear escaping the corner of her eye and rolling down her cheek.

What had she done? Things had taken a turn for the worst. Not only with Christian, but with Matt. With Amy. With everybody. Suddenly, for the first time in her whole life, she felt alone. Utterly and hopelessly alone. The repercussions of her actions had driven her deep into a hole.

There was no way Matt would ever forgive her for what she'd done. Frankly, she could careless what Christian thought about her anymore. Even though he'd been _amazing_ in bed, he was nothing but an asshole. Ultimately, both he and Matt had wound up being just like all those other guys back in high school. The arrogant ones who took pleasure in bad-mouthing her and calling her a "slut." And as for Amy, well...the chance of her coming to her senses, and forgiving her for hitting on her father were a longshot. As long as she was still under the influence of whatever the hell it was she was taking, she would never be the Amy she used to know. It was time she face the facts. Amy Gellar was no more. She was Amy Troy, and she always would be.

Courtney didn't know what she was going to do next, but she did have a sixth sense about one thing...this was merely the calm before the storm. She had a dark feeling looming over her head. Things were about to get worse...much worse.


	39. Real Bad News

Amy leaned over her nightstand, yet again, holding a short plastic straw to her nostril and quickly inhaling the white line of coke that laid before her. She raised her head up, shutting her eyes and exhaling sharply. "Damn," she murmured. Turning her head, she stole a glance over at Kimber, who, sat at Amy's vanity table across the room painting her toenails with a ruby red shade of polish. "I can't believe she did that. I mean, she's been the biggest slut ever since high school, and then she goes and hits on my father of all people? Bitch. If you ask me, I'd rather he be with you than with her any day."

Kimber froze suddenly, slowly raising her head up and staring blankly at her. Amy scowled, noticing something wasn't right with her, "sorry, did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I wasn't offending you, was I? I just meant--"

"I know what you meant," Kimber cut in, a woeful sigh escaping her. "Don't worry, I'm not offended honey. To be honest, I really should have given up on Christian a long time ago, but for some reason, I insisted on hanging on. After all the bullshit he'd put me through, a part of me thought that the man I fell in love with would genuinely love me back, but I don't think he ever did."

She scowled, stretching herself out on her bed like a cat and turning her body towards Kimber. She propped her head up on her elbow and watched her as she continued polishing her nails. A part of her wanted to say something, to offer Kimber some kind of support, but she didn't know much as it was. At least about what had really gone on between her and her father. Instead, she settled back on the original subject of their conversation. "Well, he's sure putting _me_ through a lot of bullshit right now, being attracted to Courtney. You should have seen him. He was such an asshole. All he could do was stand there and let her seduce him, and if I hadn't of been there, he probably would have screwed her too!"

Kimber scoffed. "You're absolutely right, he probably would've." She finished painting her final toe and shoved the brush back into the polish bottle, shaking her head in disbelief. "As much of an asshole as he is, he does have a way of charming a women into think she's the center of his world."

She shifted on the bed, pushing herself up to a seated position and leaning her back against the headboard. "So what are you saying? That he's going to just replace me with _her_?"

"Look, all I'm saying is that if this friend of yours--"

"_Ex_-friend." Amy corrected her with a roll of her eyes.

"Sorry, ex-friend. If she's this sleazy whore you say she is, and she's already gotten Christian's attention, you might want to keep your eyes open sweetie, because chances are, if he hasn't screwed her, he's going to and soon. Sooner than you might think."

Amy's eyes narrowed at her words. There was no use denying it. Kimber was right. "Shit." She groaned in disgust, pulling the top drawer on her nightstand open and fishing out the white envelope stashed there. Her heart was already pounding and her head was spinning from the last inhalation, but she didn't care. She needed the drug and she needed it now. Otherwise, she was going to go insane! "You know, I'm really going to need more of this stuff. I'm running out. I take like a couple hits two times a day. Almost as much as I wash my face."

Kimber smirked. "Hey, all you have to do is say the magic words honey, and it's yours." Amy went about arranging the powdery substance in another two straight lines, nearly spilling it over the side of the nightstand when she spread it around. "How _is_ that stuff working out for you?"

"Good. Actually, great. Everytime I feel like I'm losing it, I just take a couple hits of this and it's as if all the stress goes away. Just like you said it would." She sighed, holding the straw to her right nostril and hovering over the first line of powder, which disappeared seconds later. Lifting her chin towards the ceiling, she let the euphoria take over her senses for a moment.

"I'm happy for you honey. I really am. I told you it would do the trick. It's more than any over the counter pain killer could do, that's for sure."

She opened her eyes and looked over at Kimber with a light laugh. "Thank you. Really, thank you. I would probably be freaking the hell out right now if I didn't have this. You know what? I don't even want to think about that bitch or whatever-his-name-is anymore. They can go to hell." Placing the straw to her opposite nostril, she leaned in and quickly inhaled the second line of powder.

Kimber gave her a tight smile and nodded her head. "I couldn't agree more." She stole a glance at the clock on the wall. "Oh my gosh, it's almost nine. I just remembered I have to be somewhere. I better get going." Dropping her nail polish back into her purse, she carefully slipped back into her red, open-toed, two-inch heel sandals.

Amy didn't hear Kimber at first. She was too lost in the euphoria swirling around her head. Opening her eyes, she turned her head and looked over in Kimber's direction. "You're leaving already? Can't you stay a little longer? I'm going to be bored out of my freaking mind here."

Shortly after grabbing her purse, Kimber pushed herself up to her feet. Tossing her head back, she brought one of her hands up and fluffed her hair. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I promised a friend I'd meet up with them tonight."

She blinked at Kimber's words, a smirk crossing her face. "This friend wouldn't happen to be a male friend, would he? Is he? Come on, tell me."

"No, actually, they're a female. Why do want to know?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Just curious is all."

"Trust me, if he was male, I would be more than happy to set you up with his brother or something. I mean, it's the least I could do, you know? A beautiful girl like you should at least have a boyfriend by now."

Amy exchanged a smile with Kimber, and nodded her head in regard. "Thanks, and I know you would. Bye Kimber."

Kimber gave her a brief wave before turning and heading towards the door. "Bye Amy." She stole a glance over her shoulder. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." Amy called. "And you too. Bye." A moment later, she heard the door close, indicating that Kimber had left her apartment. Shifting on her bed to get comfortable, she grabbed the remote from her nightstand and flipped the television set on.

Amy shook her head in disbelief and exuded a scoff. She couldn't believe that she had ever been friends with Courtney Price. Kimber was such a better friend than Courtney had ever been to her. Since the day Amy had met the woman, not once did Kimber judge her. In fact, Kimber actually listened to the things she said. Unlike Courtney. She'd be rambling on and on about the stupidest thing in the world, and tune Amy out as though she were sitting there talking to herself. It was uncalled for. She didn't deserve to be treated that way anymore. She deserved better, way better.

Suddenly, the cordless phone beside her bed started ringing. Turning down the volume on the television, she shifted on the mattress beneath her and reached over to pick it up. She pressed the "TALK" button to answer it, hoping to God it wasn't the slut herself. "Hello?"

"It looks like you were right about Courtney after all."

Her brows furrowed inquisitively, trying to put a name to the familiar voice. "Matt? Matt, is that you?"

"Yeah. You were right though, Courtney really is nothing but a slut."

She exhaled sharply. "Well at least someone else agrees with me." She blinked, realization hitting her. "Wait. Wait a minute, are you guys...did you break up with her?"

"I just called her a slut. What do you think?"

Maybe she was hearing things, but from the vexated tone of his voice, she had a feeling he was probably telling her the truth. She shifted restlessly on her bed, placing the phone to her opposite ear and sighing irritably. "Sorry. I probably should have told you what a slut she was weeks ago, when you guys first started going out, but I was actually starting to think you two were cute together."

"That's all right. Everything you told me about her before wound up being a coming attraction, compared to what I just walked into."

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest and a huge lump formed in her throat. She didn't like where this was going, nor did she like Matt's choice of words. "Wh-what? What do you mean 'just walked into?' What are you talking about? What happened?"

There was a pause from Matt's end. "I went to see Christian. After what you told me, I got the feeling that maybe it wasn't just a coincidence."

She exhaled sharply, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Pushing herself up to her feet, she began pacing rapidly back and forth. In a shaky voice, she willed herself to speak. "What are you saying? Wha-what are you about to tell me? Please. Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me." She brought one of her hands up to her forehead, a migraine quickly taking form.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right? I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but I walked in to find him screwing her."

She froze in her tracks as her breath caught in her throat, and her jaw went slack. All of a sudden, she felt as though she might vomit. She wavered on her heels, quickly reaching out for the bed post to keep herself from falling over. It was then that Kimber's words came back to haunt her. "_If she's this sleazy whore you say she is, and she's already gotten Christian's attention, you might want to keep your eyes open sweetie, because chances are, if he hasn't screwed her, he's going to and soon._"

"Amy? Hello?"

As much as she wanted to say something, she couldn't. The words were lodged in the back of her throat and refused to come out.

"_Hello_?"

Kimber's voice continued to haunt her subconscious mind, "_sooner than you might think_." Almost immediately, did Amy feel her stomach turn. Now she really _did_ feel like throwing up. "Oh God...I-I gotta go." Without even bothering to hang up, the phone slipped from her hand and plummeted to the floor. Dashing into her bathroom, she leaned over the toilet bowl and vomited. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, it was echoing in her ears. So many thoughts raced through her head. Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to sob uncontrollably.

She hated Courtney. She hated her! She hated Christian. It was hard to believe, but she actually _hated_ her father. How could they do this to her? How could he, out of all the people she loved and cared about, betray her trust? Especially after all they'd been through these past few weeks. It didn't make any sense. She felt as though her whole world were spinning out of control. It was almost as if she were on a marry-go-round. A marry-go-round that was spinning faster and faster with each passing second, and if she didn't hang on tight enough, she was going to fall off.

When she felt as if she could vomit no more, she flushed the toilet, lowered the seat and sat herself on top of it. She covered her face with her hands as the tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Brushing her hair away from her face, she sniffled deeply, trying as she might to get a hold of herself. She didn't know if she would ever be able to look Christian in the face again, and not want to slap him for what he'd done. She wanted more than anything to turn her back on him, and pretend as if these last few weeks had never happened. She wanted to pretend as if she'd never found out he was her birth father at all, but she knew deep down that she couldn't do that. Although he'd gone behind her back and slept with her best friend, they'd made too many memories together, and he'd done far too much for her already.

There was no way she could turn away from that now. She placed her right hand over her heart, feeling it constrict in her chest. Pain suddenly began to radiate in it's place. For a minute, she couldn't figure out if the pain was from the sheer fact that she was so heartbroken over the whole situation, or if it was on account of something else entirely. Regardless, she did her best to try and ignore it and put her focus back on the situation at hand.

So what was she going to do? Was she just going to sit here all night and cry about what an asshole her father was? No, she was stronger than that. She didn't need to deal with this. For that matter, she shouldn't _have to_ deal with this. Rising to her feet, she marched back into her bedroom and once again, retrieved the small white envelope from her drawer. There was only one way to relieve herself of the pain and sorrow, and for her, this was the only way to do it.

_One more hit of this and I'll be good._

It would make things better again, wouldn't it?


	40. Crash and Burn

"I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

"No, not at all." Shortly after Courtney vacated his apartment, Christian jumped into the shower to cleanse both his mind and his body of the earlier events of the night. Sure, the bitch had been one hell of a screw, but she had put a damper on his relationship with Matt, and possibly his relationship with his own daughter. A part of him felt sinful for sleeping with her, his instincts already telling him he'd probably pay for it later. Then again, why should he have to? What he chose to do in private was his business and no one elses. After he got out of the shower, he pulled on a plain gray T-Shirt and some black sweat pants. Ten minutes later, his phone rang, and it was Amy's adoptive mother, Teresa. He couldn't figure out why she was calling him, but at least she hadn't woken him up in the middle of the night like before. "What can I do for you?"

"Frank, my ex-husband, came over last night. He came over looking for Amy, but I told him she wasn't here."

Christian's blood began to boil at the man's name. His jaw tightened up, and his grip on the phone in his hand tightened. He willed himself to take a breath in an attempt to calm himself, and continued to listen to what the woman was saying.

"He accused me of lying to him. He looked in her room and noticed all her stuff was gone, and that's when he demanded I tell him where she was." Teresa paused for a moment, and then exuded a heavy sigh. "We got into a big argument about it."

A weary sigh escaped him. "Did he hurt you?" He asked her, in the gentlest tone he could muster.

"When I refused to tell him where she was, h-he grabbed me by the arm, and threw me against the wall." Teresa's voice softened and began to shake, almost as if she were on the verge of tears. "I...went to get up, but he punched me in the face, and again in the stomach. If our neighbors hadn't heard the noise and called the police, I'm sure he would have done worse. Unfortunetly, he left before the cops could arrive."

A deep scowl crossed Christian's face listening to Teresa's story. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he sighed irritably, and cursed softly under his breath. "I'm so sorry." He brought one of his hands up to rub at his forehead in frustration. "I don't understand. Why are you telling _me_ all this? I mean, shouldn't you be talking to the police?"

There was a sniffle from her end. "I'm telling you this because I've made a decision."

His brows stitched together in bewilderment. "A decision on what?"

"I've decided to testify against him. I've thought a lot about it, and I can't keep putting myself or Amy at risk. I want to testify and I want you to be there when I do. You're as much a part of Amy's life as I am, and together, I want us to make sure he gets what he deserves."

He exuded an allieviated sigh. That was the best news he'd heard all night. It angered Christian that the police had missed the one chance to catch the asshole in the act, but with proof of abuse on Amy as well as her mother, he could very well tip the scales in their favor in court. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'll be there. Whatever it takes to put that asshole behind bars. Whatever it takes to keep you two safe, I'll be there."

"Thank you, and thank you for everything you've already done for Amy. I really appreciate it."

"Well, it's the least I can do. She is after all my daughter too."

Just then, there was an audible knock on Christian's door. He turned his head in the direction of the sound. After informing the woman that he had to go, but he'd be in touch, he hung up and rose from his bed, heading towards the door. A weary sigh escaped him as he opened the door to see Amy standing there. Her left arm was crossed over her chest, and her right hand was against her chest. She appeared to be sweating. From the vexation on her face, she didn't look too happy to see him.

"Do you have any Tylenol?"

He cocked a brow at her in question, forcing a small smile. "Hello to you too."

She sighed in frustration, bringing the hand that was on her chest up to her temples. "Look, I have a headache, and I ran out. I just want to know if I can borrow some Tylenol."

Christian was a bit hesitant. He could sense that something wasn't quite right with her, but nevertheless, he found himself opening the door wider so she could enter. "Sure, come on in."

Once she crossed the threshold and stepped further into his apartment, he shut the door and started towards his bathroom to get her the bottle of Tylenol. He was half-way to his destination when her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Don't think I don't know."

His brows furrowed in thought, whirling back around to face her. "Know what?"

Amy rolled her eyes, marching towards him. "Oh don't act like you don't know what the hell I'm talking about. I know that you slept with Courtney! Matt called me and told me!"

He exhaled sharply, his eyebrows arching expectantly. "Word travels fast."

Her eyes narrowed in fury. "Who the hell do you think you are? How could you be such an asshole? How could you do this to me? Did you even give it any thought to how this might effect _me_?"

"Did you?" She shouted angrily.

"Hey!" He cried. "This wasn't just a one-sided thing, sweetheart. Your little friend was just waiting for the right moment to pull my dick out of my pants. She started seducing me long before you were even witness to it, so don't go putting the blame exclusively on me here."

Amy groaned irritably, placing both of her hands on either sides of her head, and shutting her eyes tightly. "Ugh! That fucking bitch! Why did I _ever_ get involved with her? She's nothing but a slut! She'll always be a slut!"

"If you knew how much of a slut she was to begin with, why _did_ you get involved with her in the first place? And don't give me that anti-social, wallflower bullshit. You're a Troy. You didn't need to parade around with the high school slut to win points with the rest of your class." Okay, so maybe he was being a little harsh, but if they were going to get into an argument over this, rather than skirt around it, he'd rather get it over with and move on.

She sent an icy glare in his direction. "I don't know, ok? I. Don't. Know! Why does anyone become friends? We had things in common, we got along. You know, things were so good between us when we first became friends, and then she just turned into this conceited and shallow fucking slut!" She shook her head and scoffed, "actually, now that I think about it, you two really were made for each other."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What the hell do you _think_ it means? You're both conceited, you're both shallow, and the only thing you two ever think about is getting laid. You are just as much of an asshole as she is a slut. I mean, jesus! I'm your daughter, and to go and sleep with your daughter's best friend is the lowest thing you could have _ever_ done." She paused, wiping away the beads of sweat that rolled down the right side of her face. "Oh, no, wait, you've probably done worse than that, but I wouldn't really know because I probably wasn't around to see it."

For a moment, all he could do was stare at her, his face expressionless. Had his daughter actually called him an asshole? It had been a long while since he'd seen this type of hostility out of her, but at that time, she had no idea they were even related, and neither one of them wanted to believe it. Well, he'd dealt with her hostility before, and he could deal with it again. She was already pushing his buttons, but this time, it wasn't going to end well.

His features turned stone cold as he stepped towards her, "look, I already told you this was as much her fault as it was mine. None of this would have ever happened if that slut hadn't been such a God damn tease to begin with. If you want to bitch out anyone, go bitch out her. She's the one who took it upon herself to come here tonight, and she's the one who decided she'd rather it be with me than with Matt. You want to hate me? Go right ahead, but if I should be pissed at anyone, it shouldn't be Courtney. It should be you."

She blinked back her astonishment. Bringing her hand up, she wiped away the sweat on her forehead. "Me! I didn't do a damn thing!"

"Exactly, and it's what you didn't do that's the problem. Maybe if you'd bothered to tell me that Courtney and Matt were involved, I would have thought twice about screwing the little bitch, but you didn't." He planted his hands firmly on his hips. "I guess that makes you as much to blame for all this as it does the two of us, hmm?"

She sighed in frustration, "well I never thought she'd go and sleep with you! She was spending all her time with Matt, and we never even saw each other anymore because of it. I was busy spending time with you, and she was busy with Matt. I didn't think to tell you because I was busy with other things."

His brows stitched together in consideration. "Oh really. Busy doing what? Being Kimber's God damn little Barbie doll?" When she didn't reply to him, he had his answer. "That's what I thought, and while the two of us were spending a lot of time together, we haven't exactly spent every waking moment with each other now, have we? You know, there is a little something called a job. You might want to think about actually getting one, but if you hope to find one with 'carbon-copy of a bleached blonde coke whore' in the job description, try looking elsewhere."

Amy winced, placing her right hand over her heart. She looked over at him, her eyes narrowing to angry slits. "Why are you acting like such an asshole?" She screamed.

He noticed her wince, but he didn't think too much of it. "Aside from the fact that it's no different from how I usually act? Right around the time you started acting like a bitch. What is Kimber teaching you this week? Huh? The ins and outs of what a God damn prick I am?"

Her brows furrowed incriminatingly. Taking in a shallow breath, she shut her eyes for a moment almost as if she were trying to catch her breath, either that or calm herself. He couldn't figure out which one it was. Finally, she lifted her chin and looked up at him. "You know what? I'm sick of you talking shit about her. I'm sick of you telling me who I can and can't be friends with. I'm nineteen years old! I should be able to make my own decisions!" She paused, exhaling sharply. "I got rid of one asshole in my life and I don't need another one."

"No, what you need is a God damn wake up call." He took another step towards her until they were half a foot apart. "Kimber is a train wreck. I've told you that I don't know how many times, but you just can't seem to get it through your head." Suddenly, he realized something that he hadn't taken notice of before. Her pupils. They were dialated, and coupled with the fact that she was sweating bullets, he knew what that meant. He exhaled sharply. "Christ."

She stared at him in bewilderment. "What?"

"You're high."

"_What_? No I'm not!"

"Oh that's bullshit and you know it! Your pupils are dialated, you're sweating bullets, I know what cocaine abuse looks like, sweetheart." He could feel his blood begining to boil, and this time, it was going to take more than a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Did Kimber give you those drugs? Is that why you've been acting so God damn strange lately, huh?" His voice resonated throughout the apartment with his next words, "because of Kimber!"

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, and shook her head from side to side, but she didn't bother to reply to him.

"You know what? I've come to a decision. I'm going to put an end to this bullshit right now."

She wiped the tears from her eyes and crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I don't care. I don't want hear anymore of this!"

"Yeah, well tough shit, sweetheart. You should have thought about that before you came in here, and gave me the bitch out of the century." He grabbed a hold of her shoulders, urging her closer to him and gazing intently into her eyes. "I don't want you seeing her anymore, do you understand me?"

Amy began to wriggle in his grasp, but froze when she heard his next words. Her jaw instantly went slack. "_What_!"

"If this is the shit that self-destructive bitch is doing to my daughter, it ends now. I should have put an end to it a long time ago, but where the hell did that get me? You're never to see her again. In fact, I'm keeping you the hell away from her, and if I find out that you've somehow made contact with the bitch again, I'll--"

"You'll do what?" The tears were already streaming down her cheeks. "Hit me? Just like my adoptive father did?" Her voice shook with emotion.

Almost immediately did he take his hands off her. His heart constricted at her choice of words, and a scowl crossed his face. He sighed softly, bringing his voice down to a slightly calmer tone. "I would never lay a hand on you, but if you don't stop seeing Kimber, you might as well go back to living with your mother. I won't bother paying the rent anymore on your new apartment, and that goes for your car insurance too."

She blinked, looking back down at her feet. Bringing her opposite hand up to the side of her head, she shut her eyes and exuded a soft sigh. "I can't take anymore of this. Look, just give me my damn Tylenol so I can get the hell out of here, and get the hell away from you."

Christian exhaled sharply. "Fine, but the fact that this argument is over doesn't mean shit. I'm not changing my decision about Kimber. The God damn case isn't closed until I say it's closed." And with that, he spun around and headed in the direction of his bathroom, leaving her there standing in his bedroom.

He didn't know if her last words were meant perpetually or for the remainder of the night, but his best bet was that it was on account of her being high. What the hell else could it be? She probably wasn't going to be giving much thought to anything right now, especially the words that came out of her mouth. All she needed was to let off some steam. She'd probably be back to what could be considered normal by tomorrow. And if not, he could always go over to her place, beat the door down, search the whole apartment for whatever God damn drugs she still had, and get them the hell away from her. They'd already turned her into a major bitch, but being a physician, he knew they could do much worse.

Upon entering the bathroom, he approached the sink and opened one of the drawers beneath the counter. He reached inside to pull it out, but his hand froze on the bottle of Tylenol. Something suddenly occured to him. When Amy arrived a few minutes ago, she had told him she had a headache, but over the past few minutes he'd been standing there arguing with her, he noticed something more. Something else was wrong with her. Something else was _physically_ wrong with her, but she had been trying hard to cover it up. If she took this Tylenol, and she had already taken a hit or two of a drug as toxic as cocaine, it was possible that things could backfire, and in a big way.

Leaving the bottle of Tylenol in it's original place, he pivoted on his heels and exited the bathroom, but stopped dead in his tracks the minute he stepped back into his bedroom. "Jesus!"

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw Amy, lying unconscious on the floor. His stomach turned, and his heart began to pound fiercely in his chest as he hurried to her side.

He dropped to his knees, giving her a firm shake, "Amy? Amy!" Placing two fingers to her neck, he felt for a pulse.

No pulse.

"Christ!" Getting up from his place beside his daughter, he rushed to the phone beside his bed. He grabbed it off its base and quickly dialed 9-1-1. After putting it on speakerphone, he dashed back to Amy's side. Setting both of his hands onto her chest cavity, he instantly began administering cardiopulmonary resuscitation. "God damn it Amy! You're not going to die on me. Come on sweetheart, come on!" Tears were already welling up in his eyes, but he tried as he might to keep his emotions at bay. He couldn't get emotional over this. He couldn't lose control of himself or he might end up losing her.

When the operator came over the line, Christian immediately told them he needed an ambulance, and quickly explained the situation to the woman on the other line. He didn't mention anything about the drugs being a possible cause for her heart stopping. They'd probably find out once they got her to the emergency room. As he continued fighting to save his daughter's life, he had to be thankful he didn't live but a mere five minutes away from Dade County. He thought about running to get his medical bag, hoping to find something that might help her, but if he didn't keep the blood and oxygen to her heart flowing, those five minutes waiting for the paramedics to arrive could cost the both of them.

About three minutes later, the paramedics arrived. Christian alerted them that the door was unlocked, and two men hurried inside, medical boxes in hand. The shorter of the two carried a stretcher. Once they had set up their equipment, Christian informed them that he was a doctor and insisted that they let him take control of the situation. Neither one of them had any complaints. The paramedics hooked Amy up to a heart monitor, and Christian immediately took hold of the paddles from the defibrilator machine. Placing them onto Amy's bare chest, he gave her a jolt, hoping to get her heart beating again.

There was no effect from the first jolt, so Christian gave her a second one, all the while, praying that his efforts weren't in vain.

After the second jolt was given, a heatbeat began being traced out on the monitor. An allieviated sigh escaped Christian. An IV was administered and an oxygen mask was placed over Amy's nose and mouth. The paramedics checked her blood pressure, pulse, and temperature while Christian listened to her heart and lungs with a stethoscope. He told the paramedics to inject a drug into Amy's IV, and once they decided she was stable enough, they laid her onto the stretcher, and moved her out to the ambulance.

Christian rode with them to Dade County, holding Amy's hand in his the whole trip there. Everything seemed to be going all right, until they arrived. As the paramedics started unloading her from the truck, her heart suddenly began skipping beats, and the rate of her heart increased drastically. Christian's own heart skipped a beat when he saw what had become of her condition, and insisted they hurry to get her inside. They didn't need to be told twice, they were already whisking Amy off towards the emergency room entrance. Christian dashed after them.

The gurney Amy was lying on breezed through the emergency room doors, and a group of doctors and nurses immediately flocked to it. The paramedics quickly gave the doctors information on the status of Amy's condition. Christian tried to keep up with the rest of them, but the gurney disappeared inside a large trauma room just seconds before he could reach it. Nonetheless, he continued after them and stepped inside the room a moment later. There was no way he was going to leave his daughter's side. Especially not when she was in such serious condition.

He watched intently as the short, hespanic and brown-haired doctor took the defibrilator paddles from a crash cart, and gave Amy a jolt. There was no change in her heartbeat so a second jolt was administered. The doctor called out an order for a drug to be administered into Amy's IV, and another doctor informed the team that the oxygen in her blood was dropping. She needed oxygen, but more importantly, her heartbeat needed to slow down. Two jolts hadn't done it, so once more, the hispanic doctor gave her another jolt, more powerful than the last.

As Christian stood there watching the scene unfold before him, he tried as he might to keep himself from emoting the tears that were already welling up in his eyes. There were far too many emotions inside him at the moment. So many emotions that he couldn't even begin to interpret any of them. His head and his heart were pounding, pounding out of worry, pounding out of fear. He began pacing back and forth restlessly, his eyes never leaving his daughter. Crossing his arms firmly over his chest, he felt his hands clench into fists. Finally, he took notice of the heart monitor and saw her heart had once again, returned to a normal rate. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. This was getting tougher and tougher for him to watch.

A handheld squeeze bag attached to a face mask was placed over Amy's nose and mouth, and a blonde haired, blue-eyed nurse--stationed at the head of the gurney---began pumping it to give her oxygen. The hispanic doctor took the black stethoscope from behind his neck, put the tips into his ears and placed the disc onto Amy's chest. A moment later, the man took off his stethoscope and informed the nurses of the many tests he wanted done. They followed the doctor's orders and made note of the tests.

"I want a tox screen." Christian cut in.

It wasn't until now that the hispanic doctor turned his head, and met eyes with him. All of a sudden, Christian stopped pacing, realizing he in fact knew this man. His name was Dr. Miguel Salvio. In the past, he had referred a patient or two to McNamara/Troy, and over the last couple of years, he and Sean had became friends with him. "Christian, does this girl belong to you?"

"Yes Miguel, she does. Her name is Amy Gellar. She's...she's my daughter."

Miguel brows furrowed in consideration, "daughter?" He seemed a bit surprised but nodded his head in regard. "I never knew you had a daughter."

"Neither did I." Christian exhaled sharply. His eyes roamed back over to his daughter, "h-how is she doing?"

"She'll be fine. I promise, we're going to take good care of her," Miguel assured him. The man stole a glance over at the nurse beside him, who was busying herself with checking Amy's blood pressure. "Let's also order a tox screen. Keep her on fifteen liters of oxygen by mask, and keep an eye on her EKG. I want her vitals monitored around the clock. If she goes into V-Tach, I want her moved up to the CICU." The nurse nodded in regard.

"I'd like to be notified of the results as soon as her labs come back."

"Oh I guarantee you, Dr. Troy, you'll be the first to know about it." Miguel told him.

He sighed softly, but the reassurance that he'd be notified didn't make it any easier on him. With each passing second, he was fearing his daughter might have another relapse, more drastic than the last, but he tried as he might to keep his hopes up. Suddenly, an eerie feeling came over him. That eerie feeling a person tended to get when they felt they were being watched. His brows stitched together in consideration. He stole a glance over his shoulder, but his gaze instantly turned stone cold at what he saw. There, standing on the opposite side of the window on the plexi glass door, was Kimber.

_Bitch!_

The moment he made eye contact with her, Kimber instantly backed away from the window, whirled around and scurried off in the opposite direction. Without giving it any thought to what she was even doing here, Christian turned around, threw the door open and stalked after her. There was no way in hell she was getting away that easily. He knew she had something to do with this, and he was going to put an end to it right now. He caught up to her just as she was about to turn the corner. After a quick glance around the area, he reached out, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her aside.

"Hey! What--Christian!" Kimber cried out.

He dragged her around a corner, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowded trauma unit. They were somewhere in-between a supply closet and an exam room. However, from the darkness behind the horizontal blinds, it appeared as if no one was using it. Kimber demanded for him to let her go, but he ignored her pleas and dragged her inside the dark room, slamming the door behind him. "What the hell are you doing here? Huh?" He demanded. He waited for her to reply, but all she did was stare at him in vexation. "Answer me God damn it!"

Kimber's brows stitched together incriminatingly. "I was here visiting a friend," she snapped. "What business is it of yours?"

"Oh that's bullshit! Visiting hours ended two hours ago, sweetheart, so unless you were off giving the male nurses rub and tugs to score some quick cash, that's a crock of shit."

"Is that really all I am to you, Christian? A whore?"

Ignoring her question, he posed his own line of questions. "What the hell were you doing outside of that trauma room? Enjoying your own God damn handy work?"

"What are you talking about? I already told you, I came to visit a friend. I never said that friend was an actual patient. I was on my way out when I noticed the paramedics bringing in a girl that looked a lot like Amy. I didn't know what was going on, but I thought I'd at least check to see if she was okay."

"Did it look like she was okay?" He bellowed, so loud that Kimber jumped in fright.

Kimber said nothing. She simply looked awkwardly down at the floor.

Reaching out, he grabbed both of her arms, and urged her towards him. "You did this to her, Kimber! Don't you try and deny it. You went after her. You poisioned her! You turned her into a God damn coke whore! Why did you do it? Huh? Was it to get to me? Or was this just another form of revenge to get back at me?"

Kimber stared back at him, struggling to free herself from his grasp. "I didn't go after Amy, Christian! We met in your office a few weeks ago. I just thought she needed a friend. She was so miserable. She had no self-confidence. You obviously couldn't see that, but I did. I was just trying to _help_ her."

His grip on her arms grew tighter as he gave her a firm shake. "Help her?" He shouted. "Help her do what? Destroy her life? Put her into a God damn coma?"

"No! Why would I do that?"

"Because it's exactly what you're good at, Kimber. You're poision! You want to destroy your life, go right ahead, but the moment you started destroying my daughter's life, you crossed the line!"

"Look, all I did was offer her one little hit of coke. She didn't have to accept it, but she did. I never thought she'd become addicted to the stuff, but if it was helping to get rid of her problems, who was I to stop her?"

"Is that what you told her? That it would help get rid of all her problems?" When Kimber didn't say anything, he had his answer. "Jesus Christ! She could die because of the shit you did to her. You probably gave her a God damn heart attack!"

Kimber scowled. "I never wanted to hurt her."

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think?" He cried, as he released her from his grasp, and gave her a shove in the opposite direction. The impact made her waver on her heels for a few seconds. "You went after Amy because you knew, in your sick and deranged mind, that hurting her would ultimately hurt me. If I didn't love you, you'd take your aggression out on the one person I loved more than you." Uttering those last words was harder than he anticipated, so much so that his voice started to shake with emotion. The tears were stinging his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't let this bitch get the best of him.

The scowl remained on Kimber's face, staring back at him in vexation. "How many times do I have to tell you? I didn't go after her to hurt you, Christian, I just wanted to be her friend! Do you really think I would intentionally hurt her like that?"

"You once tied me up and tried to cut my dick with a knife, sweetheart. You're damn right I do!" He reached out, gripping her chin tightly in his hand, and gazing sinsterly into her eyes. "I'll tell you one thing though. If she dies, I swear, I'll make sure you get put away for the rest of your God damn life."

Kimber paused before finally uttering a reply. "That's right Christian, once. It was a one time thing that FYI, you had coming. It never would have happened if you hadn't traded me for a God damn car! Look, I'm sorry I hurt her, but what more do you want me to say? I never intended for any of this to happen."

"And there's not a chance in hell I'll _ever_ let it happen again." He released her chin, but a split second later, he grabbed a hold of her arms, and once again, yanked her back in his direction. Through his already clenched teeth, he snarled, "if you so much as come within a five mile radius of her, the cops will be the least of your worries, because not a damn thing will keep you safe from me."

She said nothing, but narrowed her eyes incriminatingly at him until he finally let her go. Turning on his heels, he started towards the door. He pulled the door open, but paused in the doorway when he heard her voice. "You're going to report me?" She cried.

Christian stole a glance over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with vexation. "Either stay the hell away from my daughter or deal with me! It's your choice." Without giving her the chance to utter another word, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. So hard that the horizontal blinds rattled violently, and nearly broke free from their hinges.

This was Kimber's fault. The whole damn thing was her fault. He was appauled that the bitch had actually shown up here, and he didn't buy her bullshit excuse for being here either. Unless she really _was_ giving out rub and tugs to the hospital staff, there was no reason for her to be here at almost ten thirty at night. She sure as hell wasn't sick or dying. It didn't make a damn bit of sense to him. He had enough confidence in himself that he'd put a good scare into her, but if she had any sense at all, she would never come near his daughter again.

By the time he got back to the trauma unit where Amy had been treated, she was already gone, and Dr. Salvio was nowhere in sight. A woeful sigh escaped him, but he knew that the only explaination for her disappearance was so they could begin running tests. He didn't need to be a psychic to know that Amy's labs would uncover what he already knew. His heart constricted in his chest. He knew he would probably be seeing her a little later, but he wished he could have at least seen her before they had wheeled her off. He wished he could have taken her hand, kissed her forehead, and softly assured her that he was still here. That he would remain here until she recovered.

He planted his hands on his hips, and slowly began heading in the direction of the waiting room. A deep scowl crossed his face, recalling back to the the past few hours, but the thing that stood out in his mind was the fight he'd had with Amy, just before she'd collapsed. It broke his heart just thinking about it, and the hurtful things he had said to her. If something went wrong, if she died, he didn't want that to be the last conversation he'd ever have with her.

No, she wasn't going to die. She couldn't. He wouldn't allow it to happen, damn it! She was a fighter. Hell, she was a Troy! She was going to be fine, she just had to be.


	41. Emotional Rescue

After two painstaking hours of restlessness in the hospital waiting room, Dr. Salvio arrived and alerted Christian on the status of Amy's condition. He informed him that she had remained stable throughout the series of tests they'd run, and that she was resting comfortably. Miguel also informed him what he had been dreading all along. After reviewing the results of her labs, it appeared as though she'd suffered a moderate heart attack, but she would most likely recover. Assuming that they kept monitoring her closely for any sudden abnormalities in her heart rate.

Christian was now seated at his daughter's bedside, holding her hand in his, and waiting rather anxiously for her to awaken. He'd been sitting there for the last fourty five minutes, but she had yet to even open her eyes. He was keeping his hopes up though. All that mattered to him was that she was still alive after her attack, and after two hours, that was a good sign.

Amy laid still in the large hospital bed, which was surrounded by a few machines. The wires beneath her gown, were connected to the machine on the left hand side of the bed--the side Christian was seated on--monitoring the beat of her heart. A plastic clip was attached to the index finger of her right hand, as well as a blood pressure cuff around the same arm. The two devices were connected to the machine on the opposite side, which monitored the oxygen in her blood in addition to her blood pressure. She was obtaining oxygen from the mask over her nose and mouth, and recieving fluids from the IV in her left hand.

"How's she doing?" Sean inquired.

He exhaled sharply. "She's holding up. It's me that's a God damn wreck."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. Shortly after I recieved your call, I got into an argument with Matt." There was a pause before Sean continued, "he told me you slept with his girlfriend."

He sighed wearily, a deep scowl crossing his face. His heart constricted in his chest, staring woefully at his daughter's feeble form. Swallowing the huge lump that had taken form in his throat, he shook his head in discouragement. "I screwed up Sean."

Sean's footsteps neared closer to Christian, stopping just behind the chair he was seated in. He set a comforting hand down on his shoulder. "I'll admit that what you did was wrong, Christian, but he's just a kid. He'll get over it, it'll just take some time."

"I'm not talking about Matt. I'm talking about my daughter. I'm talking about Amy." He bit down on his bottom lip, trying mercilessly to hold back the tears stinging his eyes. "I've screwed up a hell of a lot in the past, but I never imagined I'd screw up my own kid."

"This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it?" Christian stole a glance over his shoulder at Sean. "I tried being a good father to her. I did everything I could to keep her safe, to keep her the hell away from her foster father. I protected her with my life...but I lost control." A single tear managed to roll down his cheek. His voice shook with emotion as he continued, "when that bastard was raising her, all he ever did was beat her. Now I start to raise her myself, and I...I nearly kill her!"

Sean sighed as Christian began sobbing softly. Bringing over the only other chair in the room, he sat down beside him. Setting a reassuring hand on Christian's back, he gave it a soothing rub. "I'm sorry Christian, but the important thing is that you got to her in time. She wouldn't be alive right now if part of it weren't for you."

He knew Sean was right, but the possibilities of what could have gone wrong had he not been there, still stood out in his mind. He gently nodded his head, looking down at the hand he still held in his own, the pad of his thumb rubbing against the top of hers. "You know, after I lost...custody of Wilbur, I didn't think I'd ever find someone else who could fill that void. Then came Amy. She came along, and somehow, she managed to open up my heart again. After seeing what an asshole her foster father was, I promised I'd never let anything or anyone hurt her again. I left her alone with my ex-girlfriend, and it turned her into a God damn coke whore."

Sean's brows furrowed in consideration. "I'm not so sure I understand."

"Kimber." His irritation was quickly taking the place of his sorrow, but he wasn't going to allow himself to give into the rage boiling within him. Besides, he'd already taken that rage out on the bitch a few hours ago. "That bitch was feeding off my daughter this whole time. The results of her labs showed traces of enphedermine. She had a heart attack for Christ's sake! The evidence was right in front of my God damn face, but I misinterpreted it as something else. I should have known she'd be suceptible to the shit, she's got my damn genes."

Sean scowled. "It's not your genes that did this to her. You can't be held accountable for this. It was bad judgement, on both your part and hers. Maybe she thought that in be-friending Kimber, she'd learn more about you. The person you were before she came into your life."

"Oh what the hell could she learn about me from _Kimber_? Besides the fact that I'm an arrogant, self-absorbed asshole. Kimber was just waiting for the opportunity to turn my own daughter against me."

Sean sighed softly. "Are you saying Kimber did this to get back at you?"

Christian exhaled sharply, looking over at his partner. "What other reason would she have for doing what she did? Think about it Sean. I've put that bitch through enough shit, and she stills holds a grudge against me for never loving her. The way I loved Wilbur. The way I love Amy." His eyes roamed back over to his slumbering daughter.

Sean was quiet for a moment, almost as if he were trying to figure out what to say next, but when he finally did speak, his words caught Christian off guard. "Did you ever love her?" For a minute, he thought Sean was referring to Amy, but then he continued. "Kimber. Did you ever truly love her?"

He didn't know how to respond to that question. It had been a question lingering in his mind since that day at the Ikea store when he'd ran into Kimber. He shook his head, "I've never given any thought to it to be honest. Maybe I did, at some point in our relationship. Maybe I was too blind to see it. I never truly believed I could love anyone, as much as I loved Wilbur. I cared about her, but I don't think I could ever fully give myself over to her, the way I can my own child." He stole a glance over at him, "it still doesn't change anything. There's no chance in hell I could ever love her after all this."

Sean nodded his head in regard. "Well for what it's worth, you did the right thing, Christian. Even though it may not seem like it. Amy's safe now because of you. If you ask me, the love you give to your own daughter should be more important than the love to your girlfriend. Take it from me. I've been a father a lot longer than you have." He set his hand back on Christian's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "No matter how hectic your life gets, when you're raising a child of your own, family should always come first."

He sighed softly, swallowing the lump that had taken form in his throat. For a long moment, neither he nor Sean said anything. The two of them just sat there quietly, both of their eyes on the girl that laid in the large bed before them. Finally, Sean spoke, "have you gotten in touch with her mother yet?"

Christian shook his head. "Jesus, I wouldn't even know where to begin. If she found out about this, Sean, or if she even knew her daughter had a drug addiction, she could wind up blaming me for everything." His heart constricted in his chest just thinking about it. Truth be told, if Amy's mother found out about the drugs, she might end up pressing charges against him or something equally as bad, and things could end up ten times worse than when he'd lost Wilbur.

"She still deserves to know. If I were her mother, at the very least, I'd want to know that my daughter was in good health after an attack like that. You don't have to mention there were drugs involved, but if she asks, just tell her the attack was stress related. After all she's been through, with you, with her foster father, with Kimber, she's likely to believe it."

He gently nodded his head. "I'll give her a call in the morning." He stole a glance down at the hand he was holding, giving it a soft squeeze before looking back down at Amy. "I want to be here when she wakes up," he added softly.

"I can stay if you want me to." Sean offered.

"I appreciate it, really, but I'll be fine."

Sean nodded. "In that case, I should probably head home." He gave Christian's shoulder a pat before rising to his feet. "I've got an early morning rhinoplasty and tummy tuck. By the way, if you don't feel up to coming in to work tomorrow, I'll understand. Take as much time as you need."

He sent his partner a tight smile. "Thanks."

Sean moved the chair he'd been sitting in back to it's original place, and turned back around to face Christian. "When she does wake up, tell her I hope she feels better."

He smiled tenderly and nodded in regard. "I certainly will."

Sean headed towards the door, but paused in the doorway and looked back over at him, "if you need anything, give me a call."

After Christian gave his best friend the reassurance that he would, Sean went on his way, and once again, left him alone with his daughter. He stole a glance at the heart monitor beside his chair, relieved to see that her heart remained at a steady and normal rate. Rising to his feet, he leaned over the bed, placing a tender kiss to Amy's forehead before settling back down in his seat. A weary sigh escaped him as he brought his free hand up, rubbing the sluggishness from his eyes. He didn't know how much longer he'd be waiting until she finally opened her eyes or at the very least, began to stir, but he didn't care. He'd spend the night there if need be. It was unlikely the hospital staff would have a problem with it. After all, he _was_ a doctor. Maybe not a doctor employed here, but still, it wasn't as if he'd do any harm. He just wanted to be with his daughter.

Although he'd turned down Sean's offer to stay, he still appreciated the thought, but he couldn't ask his partner to pull an all nighter here with him either. Especially when he had surgery in a few hours. Sean needed the sleep, and, well, they still had a business to run. Even if the other man was going to be the only one working tomorrow. At least Christian could count his blessings that Amy's asshole of a father wouldn't find her here, but there was no guarantee that her mother wouldn't accidentally let it slip out to the man once she knew. And if she didn't tell him, Christian would undoubtedly feel twice as bad about himself. He had a bad feeling the woman would probably be subjected to further abuse from Frank, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Especially now that the woman was intent on testifying against the man.

Well, as God was his witness, he was going to bust his ass twice as much this time as he had with Wilbur. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure Amy, and her mother were safe, once and for all, and that abusive prick was locked up for the rest of his life.

* * *

A faint moan escaped the young girl's throat, as she shifted against the mattress beneath her tiny body. Amy had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but she felt as if every muscle in her body were in a knot. Upon hearing the noises around her, she didn't have to open her eyes to know that she was in the hospital. She recognized the rhythmic beeping as a heart monitor, and upon feeling an object covering her nose and mouth, she knew she had to be anywhere else but in her own room or apartment. Her eyes lids fluttered open, cringing at the beam of light that shined down on her from above. She shut her eyes tightly and then opened them again, in an attempt to get used to the new rays of light that entered her vision.

Slowly, she once again opened her eyes, allowing them to roam around the room she was in, and scrutinize her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was her father. Christian. He was hunched over the bed, still holding her hand in his, but it appeared as though he were fast asleep. His eyes were closed and his head was resting against the mattress of her bed. A soft smile crept across her face. She stole a glance over at the window that sat adjacent to the bed, noticing the darkness behind the vertical blinds. Had he been here at her bedside all night? How did he get here? More importantly, how did _she_ get here? What had happened to put her here in the first place?

Those, in addition to a million more questions raced through her head, but she wouldn't find out the answer to any of them until he woke up. She sighed in frustration, now noticing the few machines she was connected to. This was definitely not her idea of a comfortable sleeping environment, but having him here made it a little easier for her. As much as she didn't want to wake him, she knew that she had to. He was the only one who knew what had gone on while she'd been asleep, or should she say, unconscious.

"Christian?" She called out to him softly, suddenly realizing that he probably didn't hear her at all with the mask covering her face. Pulling the oxygen mask down and away from her face, she called to him once again. When she got no response or even a faint moan to indicate that he'd started to stir, she attempted to move the hand that was still in his grasp, and at the same time, continued calling out his name, but louder than before. "Christian."

"Hmm...?" He moaned softly. His eyes came open, and it looked as if he were about to close them again, until he met her gaze. Almost immediately did he lift his head up, and look over at her, a tender smile crossing his face. "Hey sweetheart. I'm sorry, I must have dozed off for a minute or two. How are you feeling?"

Amy forced a small smile, her shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "Better, I guess, considering I don't even remember what happened."

Christian scowled, "what's the last thing you remember?"

She looked down at their linked hands, noticing the way his thumb was lightly caressing the back of hers. A deep scowl came over her face. "I remember us...fighting." Her brows furrowed in thought. Had he done something to put her here? No, never. Hadn't he told her he'd never lay a hand on her? No, this wasn't his fault. It couldn't be. She lifted her chin, looking expectantly back at him. "Did something happen to make me...?" Her voice trailed off, letting him figure out where she was going with that sentence.

He exhaled sharply, nodding his head gently. "You had a heart attack sweetheart. You collapsed back at my condo. I administered CPR until the paramedics arrived, and we brought you here. I'm just glad I got to you when I did. You were very lucky."

She sighed woefully. "Oh," she spoke softly. Suddenly, something occured to her that hadn't before. This wasn't his fault. None of it was.

"Look, I'm sorry I acted the way I did earlier, and for the things I said to you, but--"

"It's my fault." She spoke suddenly, her heart constricting in the process.

"What?"

"This whole thing is my fault." Tears stung her eyes but she tried as she might to hold them in. It was then that all the words came spilling out of her mouth. The words she had been dying to utter for the last two weeks. "I lied to you. I _was_ taking drugs. Kimber was the one who gave me the stuff, and I've been taking it up until now. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. I thought it would help get rid of all of my problems like she said it would, but then this happened and...oh God Christian, I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry for everything. For all the bad things I said to you, and just...everything." The tears were now streaming down her cheeks.

The scowl remained fixated on his face. Averting his gaze down to his lap, he exuded a deep sigh. He gradually brought his eyes back up to her face, his expression somber. "This isn't entirely your fault. Kimber is more to blame than you are right now, sweetheart. Not to say that I wasn't pissed when I found out, but you do have my genes. You were just as susceptible to her lies and deception as I was. I warned you about her, I don't know how many God damn times, but you refused to see her for the person she truly is. You let her corrupt your better judgement."

She brought her free hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes, nodding in regard. "I guess I did, but how did you find out? I mean, you suspected I was doing the drugs before, but how did you find out you were right?"

"When the results of your blood work came back from the lab. There were clear traces of the drug in your blood stream." He shook his head. "Jesus, I never wanted something like this to happen to you."

"Neither did I."

"If you were having a problem, drugs sure as hell weren't going to do you any good. Unless I was the one prescribing them to you. The next time you have a problem, you come talk to me. Or to Sean. Anybody but Kimber." She nodded her head, as he continued. "I said it before but I'll say it again. You're never to see her again. I don't even want you coming within a five mile radius of the bitch. I've tried hard enough as it is to keep you safe, but I'm not about to let something like this happen again. Understand?"

Amy nodded once again, brushing away a stray tear that had managed to slide down her cheek. "Yeah, but I promise, I'll never see her again. Especially not after this. I'm done with her."

"Good, but while we're on the subject of promises, there's a promise that I'm going to make to you, right now."

A smile played at the corners of her mouth, "what?"

He gave her hand a soft squeeze, "your mother called me earlier tonight. Your foster mother. She told me that asshole stopped by the other night. He wanted to know where you were, but she wouldn't tell him." He averted his gaze downward, sighing deeply. "He hit her a few times and left. Your neighbors called the cops but they didn't get there in time to catch him."

Amy's heart constricted in her chest, and even began to pound the minute she heard the words, "foster faster." Was was he going to tell her? That her mother was in the hospital too? That something worse had happened? A couple more tears trickled down her cheeks as she took in a shallow breath of oxygen. Her eyes fell closed as she tried to keep herself from crying. "No."

Christian's brows stitched together in concern, leaning in a little closer and staring intently into her face. He stole a glance at the heart monitor and scowled. "Amy...it's going to be all right, sweetheart. You need to take a deep breath, all right? Just try and relax." He reached out and placed the oxygen mask back over her nose and mouth. "Your mother is going to be all right. In fact, you're both going to be fine. She's planning to testify against Frank, and I'm going to be there when she does. I'm going to do whatever the hell I can. I'll bust my ass to make sure you two are safe, and that asshole is behind bars. I promise you that. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again as long as I live."

The oxygen from the mask on her face, along with his reassuring words succeeded in calming her down. She couldn't allow herself to have another heart attack. She had to remain calm or she could end up killing herself, and that was not something she wanted. Opening her eyes, she turned her head and looked over at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He stole another glance at the heart monitor with a soft sigh. Focusing his attention back on her, he placed his opposite hand over the hand that he still held in his, "you should probably try and get some sleep. You need all the rest you can get. We don't want you to have another heart attack now, do we?"

She shook her head. As tempted as she was to remove the mask, so she could speak clearly to him, she refrained from doing so. Not only because she was certain her body needed it at the moment, but also because she knew Christian would probably disapprove of her doing it as well. She sighed woefully, "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

She scowled deeply. "I can't sleep here. I don't even want to _be_ here. You know how much I hate hospitals. You know how scared I get. Do you really think I can spend the night here all by myself? If I'm scared, there's no way I'll ever be able to fall asleep."

A scowl crossed his own face. Releasing the hand that he'd been holding, he slowly rose from his chair, and leaned over to shut off the light above her bed. The room instantly grew dim, and the only light that remained came from hospital corridor, which radiated from the open door to her left.

Her brows furrowed inquisitively at his action. She looked up at him, his much larger frame shrouded in the shadows of the room. "What are you doing?"

"Roll over," he murmured.

She still was somewhat confused with what he was planning on doing, but nonetheless, did as he said and turned over to lie on her right side, her back now facing him. It didn't take long for her to figure out what he was doing. The moment she felt his weight sink down into the mattress beside her, she understood his purpose. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist in a protective embrace, his chin resting against her shoulder. She smiled tenderly to herself, fearing she might start to cry all over again. Never in her life had she had a man, much less her father hold her in such a loving and comforting manner.

He sighed softly. "There's no reason for you to be scared, sweetheart, because I'm staying right here until you fall asleep."

Nothing could prevent the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye. "Really?"

"Mmm-hmm, but come this time tomorrow, you should be sleeping like a baby. I'm taking you back to McNamara/Troy. You can finish recovering there. From here on out, you're under my care."

Her eyes widened in surprise. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she looked expectantly at him. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. You said it yourself, you can't sleep knowing that you're here all by yourself, but if you're at McNamara/Troy, you'll hardly be alone. I'll be there, so will Sean, and you've already met Liz. I'll work overtime if I have to. Whatever it takes to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible."

His words warmed her heart, and the more he spoke, the more she realized just how lucky she was to have him in her life, and how lucky she'd been to have survived this heart attack. Another tear managed to escape the corner of her eye, but before she could bring her hand up to brush it away, Christian brought his own hand up and did it for her. "Thank you. Really, you don't know how much that would mean to me."

"My pleasure. By the way, Sean told me to tell you that he hopes you feel better."

She smiled softly. "Well the next time you see him, tell him I said thank you."

"I will. Better yet, you can tell him yourself, once we get you settled."

She nodded gently, "okay."

Christian pressed a kiss to her temple, before resting the side of his head back against hers. "Get some rest now sweetheart. If I'm not here when you wake up, I'll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon."

With another nod of regard, she shut her eyes. She shifted in the bed as much as she could -- which was rather difficult seeing as how he was pressed up against her -- and attempted to get comfortable. Suddenly, the only sounds she heard were the beeping heart monitor, and the very distinct sound of their own breathing. An unfamiliar woman's voice could be heard over a loud speaker off in the distance.

Amy couldn't believe how much she'd been through over the last few days. She had sure been on a rollercoaster of sorts, with both emotional highs and emotional lows. It might not have seemed like a mistake about a week ago, but getting involved with Kimber had been the biggest mistake she'd ever made. Christian had been right all along, but she'd been the stupid one not to listen. She'd been naive. She was taken advantage of in a moment of vunerability, and now that she looked back on it, she hated herself more than anyone. More than her adoptive father. More than Courtney, and definitely more than Kimber. Honestly, she didn't know exactly _what_ the woman's true intentions had been for be-friending her.

Did she want to be friends with her because she was lonely? No, that was bullshit! It had to be. What kind of friend would do this to her? Well, definitely not a real one. Sure, Courtney had slept with her father, but for as long as she'd known her, Amy knew she would never hurt her. Physically anyway. Okay, so they had gotten into a cat fight back at Christian's condo, but Courtney wouldn't do something so extreme as to put her in the hospital. Had Kimber used her simply to get to her father? Absolutely. She wouldn't put it past her that doing this had been Kimber's idea of revenge for not being able to be with him. Bitch! Well after all she'd learned about her, Amy was thankful her father was no longer commited to Kimber. He was commited to _her_.

It was then she realized that he was more than just a father. He was a life saver, a hero, a friend.

"Christian?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

She had been longing to utter the words since the night he'd saved her from her adoptive father, but it was now that they held so much more meaning, because she meant them with all of her heart. And after a brief moment of silence, he replied. "I love you too sweetheart."


	42. Can We Still Be Friends?

This was probably going to be a big waste of time on Courtney's part, but, hey, she still had a heart, and whether Amy liked it or not, she still thought of her as her friend. She knew the feeling was probably not mutual at the moment, but after hearing about what had happened to her, she couldn't stay away. It would only succeed in making her feel ten times worse than she already did. After tossing and turning so much the night before, she was lucky if she had even gotten at least an hour of sleep. She simply couldn't fall asleep knowing she had screwed things up, and because of the things she'd done, she was alone. With a bouquet of pink carnations cradled in her arms, she stepped off of the elevator, and turned to her left, making her way down the broad corridor towards the hospital room her friend was supposedly in.

She wouldn't be surprised if Amy didn't want to see her. In fact, she was already anticipating the girl's annoyance. The only thing that kept her hopes alive was one simple fact. It hadn't been _her_ who put Amy in the hospital, so that had to count for something, right? As she neared closer to Amy's room, her heart constricted in her chest. She was four feet away from the door when she paused, saying a silent prayer for an extra boost of confidence before rapping softly on the open door, and finally entering the room. "Amy?"

Amy was still lying in bed when she came into view, still surrounded by the machines she'd been on before, but the oxygen mask she'd had last night, had been replaced by a nasal oxygen tube. The tube rested under her nostrils and around her face. As Courtney stepped further inside the room, it was then she noticed, Amy was not alone. There, sitting at her bedside, holding her hand, was Christian. An irritable sigh escaped her. So much for things ending well. Once she laid eyes on the man, she was tempted to turn right back around and leave, but it was too late. The moment she'd spoken, the pair immediately turned their heads in her direction.

There had been a smile on Christian's face when he'd been looking at Amy, but that smile quickly faded when he saw her standing there. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Courtney's eyes locked on him and narrowed in vexation. "For your information, I came to see Amy, not you."

Christian exchanged a look with Amy, who, looked wearily over at her, as if she had better things to do than talk to her at the moment. Courtney opened her mouth to plead for Amy to hear her out, but refrained from speaking when she saw Christian rise to his feet, leaving his place at Amy's side and approaching her. A determined but stone cold look was fixed upon his face, "look, I don't know how the hell you found out she was here, but I think it's obvious that neither she nor I want to see you. So, why don't you and your black, designer knock off boots start walking, before I have to escort you out myself."

Courtney's eyes narrowed once again. "Go to hell Christian. Look, I know she's pissed at me right now, but my friend works here. They called and told me she was brought in last night. I need to talk to her..._alone_."

"Forget it. She doesn't want to talk to you. In fact, neither one of us want a damn thing to do with you anymore. Why are you even wasting your time? Shouldn't you be off screwing someone else's father by now?"

Oh she wanted desperately to slap him, right there and then, but she knew she couldn't. She had come here with a purpose, and she wasn't going to screw things up anymore. It was tough as hell to fight her temptation to hurt him, but she took a breath to calm herself. "Oh shut up, you're the one who wanted it. I could tell from the day I met you, you were just waiting to get into my pants. You didn't even care what Amy would think of you when you did."

Christian rolled his eyes. "I didn't care? I think you've got it backwards, sweetheart. If you gave a shit about Amy, or even Matt for that matter, you would have thought twice before you went off and screwed her God damn father. Oh, and incase you're forgetting, you were the little slut that seduced _me_."

Courtney held the flowers in her arms more tightly against her chest, her fingernails digging into the plastic wrapping that surrounded the bouquet. He was seriously playing on her last nerve, and it wasn't making the situation any better. "I don't have time for this." She cocked her head to see past him, "Amy, we need to talk. Look, I know you're pissed at me right now, and I'm probably the last person you want to talk to, but it's important. Please, you gotta hear me out girl."

Amy stared blankly at her. Crossing her arms firmly over her chest, she sighed wearily and turned her head away to look at something else other than her face. "Leave me alone."

Christian looked from Amy to Courtney. "You heard her. It's time for you to leave so get the hell out."

Courtney opened her mouth to continue to plead with Amy, but before she could get one word out, Christian wrapped his arm around her waist, forcing her to start walking towards the door. "Hey! Damn it! Get your hands off me!" She fought against him, but her efforts were in vain. He was just far too strong for her. "Amy! Come on girl, please! Just give me five minutes, _please_! That's all I'm asking for is five minutes!" She cried.

Amy shook her head in disbelief, ignoring her pleas, and not bothering to even look at her. She exhaled sharply, slumping down in bed and rolling her eyes.

Christian groaned irritably, keeping her moving further and further away from Amy. "God damn it, did you not hear what she said? She doesn't want to talk to you! She wants you out. I'm not going to bother telling you again, sweetie pie, I'll just call security to escort you out."

Despite Christian's much larger frame, she continued to fight against him. "Amy! _Amy_! You can't let him do this to me! Come on, I'm just asking for you to hear me out. Amy! You can't stay mad at me forever. I still care about you, even if you don't care about me. Hey, _I_ wasn't the one who put you here!" Christian had Courtney about two feet away from the door when Amy's voice stopped both of them in their tracks.

"Wait!"

Courtney exchanged a look with Christian, "she said wait, now get the hell off me!" She gave him a firm shove in the opposite direction, not hard enough to knock him off balance, but enough to make him take a step or two back. He rolled his eyes, planting his hands firmly on his hips and exhaling sharply. Together, the two of them made their way back over to Amy.

Christian and Amy exchanged a look, his brows arching expectantly at her, almost as if to say "are you actually considering this?"

Amy exhaled sharply, gave him a light shrug of her shoulders and rolled her eyes. She groaned. "Fine, whatever, let her stay. For five minutes anyway."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. "Thank you girl, really, thank you." She knew there was still a part of Amy that actually cared. It might have been hidden deep down inside, but the fact that she was actually willing to hear her out was a relief. Maybe all hope wasn't lost yet after all.

"That's right, I am a girl. A girl that has a name so stop with the 'girl' already. My name is Amy." Amy remarked.

Courtney sighed softly, her heart constricting in her chest at those bitter words. It never seemed to bother her before when she'd called her that, up until now at least. She stole a glance up at Christian, noticing the exasperated look on his face. He met eyes with her, instantly cocking a brow at her in challenge. Her eyes narrowed incriminatingly, as she waited for him to turn around and leave the two of them alone. "I said I wanted to talk to her in private. Guess what that means. It means you leave."

Christian pursed his lips, looking from her to Amy. With a heavy sigh, Amy nodded her head and once again, rolled her eyes. He brought his gaze back down to Courtney, "you got five minutes sweetheart. I'd make the most of them if I were you." He took one last look at his daughter before turning and heading out of the room.

Courtney waited until he was out of earshot before approaching Amy's bedside. "Look, gir--Amy, I know you're pissed at me right now, and you don't want to see me right now, but after hearing what happened to you, I got worried. I wanted to come and see you, and tell you how sorry I am." She glanced down at the flowers still in her grasp, handing them over to her, "oh, here, these are for you."

Amy took the flowers from her with a small, but somewhat forced smile. Without even bothering to take a quick whiff of their sweet smelling aroma, she set them beside her on the bed. "Thanks," she said dryly, "but flowers aren't going to make up for what you did. How could you go and do that to me? How could you go and sleep with my father? Your best friend's father!"

She dropped down into the chair beside the bed, where Christian had been sitting a few moments ago. "I don't know. I'm really--"

"You don't know?" Amy cried, staring incredulously at her.

She cringed, bringing one of her hands up and running her fingers through her hair. "What I mean to say is that it just happened. I'm really sorry I slept with your dad, okay? But after all that went wrong with me and Matt, I got desperate. I just wanted to find a guy, _an_y guy that could satisfy me. Okay, I know how much of a slut that might make me, but I couldn't help myself."

Amy scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Yeah, it does make you a slut. A big slut. I mean, what kind of person--_friend_ would do that? It's bad enough that he's twice your age, but I didn't even want to imagine you having sex with someone, let alone my father. Why is it always about sex with you, Courtney? Why couldn't you just be with Matt and not have sex? Why are you always like that?"

Courtney's brows furrowed incriminatingly at the other girl. Truth be told, there was no easy way to answer her question. She sighed irritably, sitting back in her seat. Propping her elbow up on one of the arm rests, she leaned her head on her hand. "Honestly? I don't know. I've been with so many guys over the years. I've had more than my share of boyfriends, and even though there were guys that wanted the sex as much as me, that's all they ended up wanting. They didn't want to commit to anything else that a real boyfriend would."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Well you can't have the best of both worlds, especially with high school guys. Their arrogant assholes!"

"Uh, yeah, I think I've figured that out by now," she retorted, the sarcasm distinct in her voice. She averted her gaze downward, "it was stupid for me to think that I could have both Matt and Christian, but I figured that if I slept with someone else, someone who actually _knew_ what they were doing, I could get what I was missing out on with Matt. Every now and then."

"And did you even stop to think he'd find out about it?"

"Well, I never thought he'd walk in on me while I was doing it with your dad!"

Amy winced, bringing both of her hands up to her head and pressing her fingers to her temples, "okay, you know what? Just shut up. I don't want to think about you screwing my dad anymore! I want that image permanent erased from my fucking head!"

She could see that she was only making the situation worse, but if she truly wanted to make amends with Amy, she'd have to make the most of the time remaining, which probably was down to two minutes by now. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Look, the point is, it was a mistake. A huge, colossal mistake that I promise I'll never make again. I don't know how many more times I can tell you how sorry I am, and I'm sorry that I neglected our friendship for a guy. I know I kind of have a habit of doing that too, but from here on out, I'm going to stop."

Amy scowled. "I know I neglected you as a friend too, but you really hurt me. It seemed like you cared about Matt more than you cared about me, and then you went after my dad." She exhaled sharply, tears already stinging her eyes. "I _want_ to forgive you, because I don't have very many friends right now, but after what you did, I don't think I ever _can_ forgive you."

She felt a pang in her chest, noticing the way Amy's voice wavered with her last words, and suddenly, she felt as though she might start to cry as well. Sitting up in her seat, she looked intently at the other girl and scowled. "I don't want to lose you as my friend, Amy. I know what I did was stupid and it was wrong, but I cared enough about you to come and see you today, didn't I? You sure didn't end up here over something _I_ did to you, did you?"

Amy looked down at her lap, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye and rolling down her cheek. "No," she said softly. "You didn't do anything to put me here. Someone else did."

"Who is it? Whoever the hell it is, I'll totally go and kick their ass for you because anyone who messes with my friends is begging for some deep pain."

"I'm still your friend?" Amy murmured with a quiet sniffle.

"Well of course you are. I told you that. Even if you don't think of me as yours. I could barely sleep last night knowing you were here." She pursed her lips, holding back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "I seriously would've lost it if I came in here today, and they told me you were dead. You're my best friend, Amy, and I know that I'm still yours. I know I haven't done such a good job of being that friend, but I'm going to change. At least I'm going to try, for you. For us."

The tears were now streaming down Amy's cheeks. She brought her hand up to wipe them away, and sniffled deeply. "I don't know what you expect me to say."

Courtney wiped her own tears away, and sighed wearily. "If you're worried about me coming near Christian again, I can guarantee you that it's never going to happen. I can't even stand being in the same room as him right now, and considering the way he's been treating me, I think the feeling is mutual."

Amy nodded her head with another sniffle. "Yeah, I kind of picked up on that."

"So, what do you say gir--Amy, are we friends again? Will you give me another chance at being your friend? I'm going to try my hardest not to mess things up this time, I promise." Her heart pounded in anticipation. She didn't know what more she could do if Amy turned her away. Like Amy, she was in the same boat. She didn't have but a few people in her life that she even considered friends, but they didn't seem to have much time for her as it was. They all had jobs, boyfriends, and school.

After a long hesitation, Amy exuded a heavy sigh but gently nodded her head. "Yeah. Well, we can work on it at least." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

She nodded in understanding, a small smile appearing on her face. "I can live with that. Look, would you mind doing something for me?"

Amy's brows furrowed in consideration. "What?"

Courtney opened her mouth to reply, but once again, she was rudely interrupted by the sound of Christian's voice.

"Time's up, get out." Both she and Amy turned their heads as Christian appeared at the foot of the bed, his hands firmly planted on his hips. He was looking directly at her, but when he stole a glance over at Amy, his forehead wrinkled in bewilderment. "Why are you crying sweetheart?" His cold gaze shifted back to Courtney, "what the hell did you say to her?"

Amy quickly wiped the excess tears from her eyes, shaking her head. "She didn't say anything _bad_." She exchanged a look with Courtney before looking over at him, "look, just give us five more minutes, okay?"

He looked from Courtney to his daughter, cocking an questioning brow at her. "You're kidding me, right? You actually want to give this little slut five more minutes of your time? If you want her gone, all you have to do is say the word and--"

Courtney's jaw went slack at the words, "little slut," and her eyes once again began to narrow in fury. Was he actually begging for her to kick his ass? Well, she'd take kicking him in his crotch over his ass any day. She was tempted to utter some kind of snide remark, but didn't get the chance.

"Christian!" Amy cried suddenly.

"_What_?" He answered.

"Stop! Just give us _five_ more minutes, _please_."

His eyes shifted back to Courtney, who held his gaze for a moment, almost challenging him to keep talking trash about her. He exhaled sharply with a roll of his eyes, "fine," lifting his hand, he pointed a finger at her, "five more minutes and then you're history." Turning on his heels, he left the two of them once again in peace.

This time it was Courtney who rolled her eyes. A weary sigh escaped her, hoping Christian wouldn't be rude enough to interrupt them again. Well, either way, she knew she had to cut to the chase or she might just hurt him the next time he walked into the room.

"What did you want me to do?" Amy inquired.

"I need you to talk to Matt for me," she replied. Amy's brows furrowed questionably so she went on. "He won't talk to _me_, and there's probably no chance of us ever getting back together, but I still really like him. If we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend, the least I want is his friendship. I know, it's a lot to ask for, especially after what I did, but I still want him in my life. I _need_ him in my life. Please, Amy, you're the only one who can do this for me."

For a long moment, Amy didn't say anything. She just sat there, appearing as if she were mulling it all over. Courtney stole a glance at her wristwatch, watching the seconds tick by. She bit down on her bottom lip and waited rather impatiently for her to utter some kind of reply. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Amy exhaled sharply and spoke, "okay, I'm not making any promises, but I guess I could try and talk to him."

Well, it was a good thing Amy wasn't as hard-headed as her father. If she was willing to try, that was good enough for her. Courtney sighed softly. "Oh my God, really? Thank you. I would so appreciate you doing this for me." Amy shrugged her words her off, almost as if they meant nothing to her. Courtney scowled and shook her head in disbelief. So much for her not being much like Christian. She stole another glance at her wristwatch, "well, I should probably get going."

Amy nodded in agreement. "Probably, Christian will be coming back again soon."

She rolled her eyes at her last words. Oh, she knew perfectly well what would happen if she wasn't gone by the time he came back. She would get kicked out on her ass. It was better this way anyway. If she stuck around any longer, she might just have to leave with a security escort after all, because being in the same room as Christian Troy, well, there was only so much more she could take before she snapped. She rose to her feet, looking down at Amy with a forced smile. "You know, for what it's worth, I hope you feel better, and I'm sorry again...for what I did. For all of this. It was a stupid and honest mistake."

Amy pursed her lips, nodding in regard. "Thanks."

"All right, well, I guess I'll see you around then."

"Okay."

"See ya." Whirling around on her heels, she headed for the door.

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw Christian. He was standing just outside the door, his hip against the wall, and his arms crossed firmly over his chest. Her eyes narrowed incriminatingly. She was partially tempted to say something to him, but instead, decided it was better not to get him started. She scoffed, shook her head and turned to head off in the opposite direction of the hall, muttering the word "asshole" under her breath. As she started walking away, she thought she heard him utter some kind of reply back, but she wasn't entirely sure. Well, even if he had, she didn't care to hear what he had to say. Besides, it was probably just some snide and arrogant remark anyway. Definitely not worth wasting her breath over.

She had faith she would get her best friend back, but as far as Christian Troy went, well, she'd feel better never having to look that asshole in the face again. Even if he wasn't necessarily that bad to look at. He was amazing in bed, but other than that, he had an ego twice the size of his head, and was nothing more than a cocky, smart-ass prick.

* * *

"Your heart and lungs sound fine, blood pressure is fine." Christian removed the stethoscope from his ears, and the blood pressure cuff from Amy's arm, setting it back on the roll-away cart beside him. He brought his eyes back up to her face, "how are you doing sweetheart?"

She smiled softly. "Much better now that I'm here with you, and not in that God forsaking hospital," she replied, with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Shortly after Courtney had left Amy's room back at the hospital, Christian had entered with a wheelchair, alerting her that he had talked to Dr. Salvio, and the man had approved her transfer to McNamara/Troy that afternoon. Christian had definitely been on top of things. He'd even been smart enough to bring her an extra set of clean clothes. Obviously, some clothes she had left over at his apartment when she'd been spending the night there. They'd taken his car over to the clinic, and had arrived almost two hours ago. It didn't take them long to get her settled, and it was a definite relief that she didn't have to be on so many machines as she had been at the hospital.

Amy was currently lying in bed in one of their cozy recovery room suites. Christian sat on a stool beside the bed. She wore a hospital gown beneath the white robe that covered her up -- in addition to the soft bed linen -- and the only machines she was hooked up to were a heart monitor and an IV. However, there was still a nasal oxygen tube in her nostrils as there had been previously. Christian insisted that she still remain on two liters of oxygen, just as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, she still had some healing to do.

Christian returned her smile with one of his own. "I'm glad. Whatever I can do to make you feel more comfortable." He sighed softly. "At least this way I can keep an eye on you. You're my patient now so relax."

She nodded her head with a smirk, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. He gave it a soft squeeze, allowing the pad of his thumb to caress the top of her hand. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He stole a glance around the area. "Is there anything special I can bring you, sweetheart? Can I get you a drink? A snack?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine, but thanks. I'll let you know if I get hungry or thirsty." Her brows furrowed in thought. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Shifting in bed to get more comfortable, she sank down a little farther beneath the covers. A weary sigh escaped her. "I need you to be honest with me about this."

His brows stitched together inquisitively. "About what?"

She exhaled sharply. "Would you ever consider...sleeping with Courtney again?"

Christian rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration. "If you're asking me because you think I have feelings for the little slut, I'll tell you right now, she's not even worth a second screw. She seduced me into screwing her, which, as a result, ruined my relationship with Matt. At this point, I wouldn't bother giving her the time of day, much less my dick." His brows arched expectantly. "Does that answer your question?"

She cringed but nodded her head. "Yeah." She sighed deeply, "but I guess I'm going to give this whole friendship with her another shot. At least I'm going to try. I know I probably shouldn't even bother, but a part of me, a very _small_ part, feels somewhat guilty. Is that stupid?"

"Frankly, I'm surprised you're still talking to her." He exhaled sharply, "I may not think so highly of her right now, but you're free to do whatever the hell you want. As long as she doesn't get you involved in the same shit Kimber did, I could careless whether you talk to her or not. It's up to you, but if it were me, I wouldn't want anything to do with the bitch anymore."

Amy was tempted to defend Courtney for his last remark, but decided not to. Truth be told, Courtney was still a bitch to her. She might not have said it to her face, but there was still a very big part of her that felt that way inside. She nodded her head in regard. "Okay."

There was a light knock on the door just then. Both Amy and Christian turned their heads towards the door to see who it was. "I'm sorry to interrupt," Liz spoke, looking between the two of them. Her gaze then settled on Amy, "but Sean just informed me that you were here."

Christian looked from Liz to Amy then back to Liz. "Amy, you remember our anesthesiologist, Liz, don't you? Liz, I'm sure you remember my _daughter_." He arched his brows expectantly.

A smirk crossed Liz's face. "Of course. How could I forget?"

Amy nodded and looked over at Liz. The woman approached the end of her bed and sent her a friendly smile. "Yeah, I remember her too. Hi." She forced a cordial smile.

"Hi," Liz greeted her. "It's nice to see you again, Amy."

"You too." Well, to be honest, Amy didn't know if the woman actually did want to see her again, considering the awkward conversation they'd had when they'd first met, and Liz had mistaken her as one of Christian's former one-night-stands. The thought repulsed her then and it still repulsed her now, but it was forgiven and forgotten as far as she was concerned.

"I'm assuming Sean has already informed you of Amy's condition. She's going to be staying here a few days as she continues recovering." Christian spoke up.

"As a matter of fact, he did." She looked down at Amy and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry honey, you're in good hands. We're going to take good care of you."

"That's right, but if Sean and I get tied up in surgery or in a consult, Liz will be here to take care of whatever it is you need." Christian added with a small smile. "Don't write her off before you've gotten to know her. She can be awfully friendly, but that doesn't mean she won't bite your head off either."

Amy's brows furrrowed in consideration. "Uh, okay."

"I don't bite people's heads off, Christian, but if you're not careful, I might just start with the first plastic surgeon who's arrogant enough to make a false assumption about me." Liz remarked testily.

Christian's brows arched expectantly, and then furrowed incriminatingly. "Lighten up there, Lizzie. It was a joke."

At that moment, a petite and unfamiliar blonde woman peeked her head in, "Dr. Troy?" Everyone turned their heads at the sound of her voice.

"Yes?"

"Your five o' clock is here." The blonde informed him.

Christian nodded his head. "I'll be right there." With that, the petite blonde turned and left. He turned his head back, looking over at an expectant Amy. A soft sigh escaped him. "I need to go, but I'll be back to check on you later, I promise." He rose to his feet and leaned in to place a kiss to the top of her head.

Amy scowled, but nodded her head in understanding. "Okay."

He straightened up, his gaze settling on the other woman, "Liz..."

Liz held up a hand to silence him, shaking her head. "You don't have to say it, Christian. I will take special care of her until you get back." She looked down at Amy, smiling softly. "It should give us a chance to get to know each other."

Christian gave her an affirmative nod of his head. "Thank you." He took one last look at Amy before turning and leaving the room.

Amy sighed wearily, looking up at Liz. For a brief moment, the room was quiet. She tried to think of something to say to Liz, but nothing was coming to her. Then, as the woman began examining the IV bag, which hung on the rod beside the bed, she broke the quiet and spoke to Amy.

"So, you and Christian have gotten pretty close, huh?" Liz inquired.

Amy nodded her head. "Yeah, we really have. I know it might seem fast, seeing as how we've only known each other a few weeks, but after all that's happened, I feel like I've known him my whole life."

Liz nodded. "Well, I certainly hope he's been treating you well, honey. I know he can be quite thoughtful at times, but more often than not, his arrogance and his ego get the better of him, and he can turn cruel in the blink of an eye."

She sighed woefully. "I know. He hasn't been so much like that to me though. In fact, he's been more thoughtful than ever to me. Well, except for that one thing, and we do fight sometimes, but he's done so much for me. He's saved my life twice already. I know he truly loves and cares about me. He protected me with his life when my..." She averted her gaze downward, her voice wavering slightly as she continued, "my abusive, adoptive father went and...hurt me."

There was a brief moment of silence before Liz spoke. "I want to apologize for the way I acted to you before. I'm sorry I ever doubted you sweetie. Frankly, I never anticipated Christian even _had_ a daughter, but I believe it now. You really are his daughter, I can tell he really and truly loves you with all of his heart."

Amy lifted her chin and looked up at Liz, who's face was filled with compassion and understanding. She smiled tenderly, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "It's okay."

Liz smirked. "I hope we can still be friends."

She nodded her head. "Definitely."

"Look, don't take this the wrong way honey, but I had my doubts about whether or not Christian could _be_ a father." Liz sighed softly. "To tell you the truth, he's never commited to anything in his life, much less a child, but from what I've seen, and what you've told me, I have more appreciation for him than I've had in years. He protected you with his life. He did what any suitable father would have done in the situation. That right there shows me just how much better off you are with Christian, than with the abusive man who raised you."

Tears were already welling up in Amy's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn't allow herself to break down in front of a woman she barely knew. It would be embarassing. "I know. I just wish, you know, that he could have been there for me growing up." She looked sadly down at her hands. "It would have definitely helped to have a father that actually...loved me." There was no way she could hold back the single tear that rolled down her cheek.

"I understand, but the important thing is he's here for you now, and he's actually taking responsibility for his mistake." Liz scowled, gazing at her intently. "Hey, you okay?"

Amy nodded gently. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

"No, it's okay." She took a breath to compose herself once again, quickly wiping away her tears. "They're tears of joy, not sadness."

Liz smiled sympathetically down at her. "You know, I think you might actually be the first female Christian has ever had a _positive_ impact on."

A smile played at the corners of Amy's mouth. "Really?"

Liz nodded. "Really. You may be his daughter, but as far as I can tell, he didn't pass on a single one of his negative attributes to you."

She exhaled sharply, looking up at her with a lop-sided smile. "Well, you haven't really seen that part of me yet. I can be a total bitch sometimes. I can be just as cruel as him, if someone pushes me far enough."

"We'll, if there's any cruelty or even the slightest bit of arrogance in you, you certainly don't show it honey. You might actually have been lucky enough to obtain Christian's better qualities."

Amy smirked. "You're probably right." Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught both she and Liz's attention. The two of them turned their heads towards the open door, and there stood Matt.

"Hi Matt." Liz greeted him with a friendly smile.

Matt stepped further inside the room, stealing a glance over at Liz. "Hey."

"Matt, hey." Amy shifted beneath the covers, pushing herself up a little more in bed. She looked over at him, her brows furrowing in consideration. "What are you doing here?"

"My dad called me up. He said you wanted to talk to me about something?" Matt stared inquisitively at her.

"Oh, oh yeah! I did want to talk to you." Amy looked from Matt to Liz and then back to Matt. His eyes also shifted in the woman's direction. "Can you excuse us for a few minutes?"

Liz looked between the two of them, smiling softly. "Of course. Excuse me." Turning on her heels, she headed out of the recovery room, leaving the two of them alone.

Matt gradually approached Amy's bedside. "I heard about what happened to you. How are you doing by the way?"

She smirked. "I'm feeling better, thanks. Being here is definitely ten times better than being in the hospital. Christian wanted me to feel more comfortable, and I couldn't sleep over there so he brought me here instead. You can't really escape the smell though." She chuckled softly.

Matt nodded his head. "Yeah, it really doesn't smell any different, but I'm glad you're at least doing better. So, uh, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Amy hesitated before speaking the words. "I wanted to talk to you about...Courtney."

It was then that Matt's features turned cold, his gaze filled with vexation. "What's there to talk about? You told me pretty much all I needed to know about her. Or was there something you left out? What are you going to tell me? That she's carrying my uncle's baby?" He shook his head, waving his hand in the air. "No, you know what? I don't want to know."

She cringed. "Okay, ew, no! Please, don't even put that image in my head." She exhaled sharply, wishing she could just avoid the situation all together and tell Courtney to handle it herself, but she knew she couldn't. "Look, Matt, I know this is going to sound like a longshot, and to be honest, you'll probably say 'no' anyway, but Courtney is genuinely sorry for what she did to you."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Really. Well, that's just great," he remarked vapidly, "but you know, it's kind of hard for someone like her to be geuninely sorry, especially when she gets off doing this sort of shit to countless other guys."

Amy sighed wearily. This was not going to get her anywhere. "She wants to be your friend, and I know that's a lot to ask after what she did, but she still wants you in her life. Can't you just try and forgive her or at least try to be her friend?"

"Why are you even doing this? I mean, she slept with your dad! I would've thought you'd be just as pissed about all this as I am, and now you're asking me to be her friend? Why are you defending her?" He held her gaze for a brief moment, his brows furrowing in question, "did she ask you to talk to me?"

She scowled, averting her gaze downward. There was no way she could skate around the truth anymore. She gently nodded her head, speaking softly. "Yeah, and honestly, I don't even know why I'm doing it." Slowly, she lifted her gaze back up to his face. "I'm just as pissed as you are about the whole thing, and yet, I'm still making an effort to be friends with her again. I don't know why I'm giving her another chance, but a part of me, as small as it is, actually misses her. She _was_ my best friend."

"Yeah, well there's no way in hell I'd even _consider_ being her friend again. If she was a real friend, maybe she would have thought twice before sleeping with my uncle. You know, I gave her more than enough chances already, and she blew every one of them."

A bewildered expression crossed her face. "Uh, your uncle?"

"Christian. You know, the promiscuous asshole you're calling your 'dad?' He's my Godfather, or at least he used to be. He's not much of anything to me right now."

She grimaced. The words 'promiscuous asshole' struck a nerve with her. Even if Matt had spoken them out of anger, they were still true. She couldn't deny that to herself. "You know, I really thought that you and Courtney made a good couple. I know that my dad does a lot of stupid things, and he has the habit of sleeping with practically everyone, but..." Her voice trailed off, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She didn't know what else to say. She was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and this was the last thing she needed right now. Her eyes fell shut as she exuded a weary sigh. "Oh who am I kidding? I can't do this anymore."

Matt sighed softly. "I don't know why you even bother. It's not like anything you say or do is gonna change anything. Look, it's over between me and Courtney. I don't ever want to see her again."

"And Christian? You can't hate him forever, right? I mean, you have to talk to him sooner or later. Do you ever think you can forgive him, someday?"

He rolled his eyes at the question. "Well it's definitely going to take some time, I'll tell you that much. If you think I'm just going to wake up tomorrow and act like this whole thing never happened, think again. He slept with my girlfriend!"

She scowled. "So you're not going to forgive him?"

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" Matt stole a glance over his shoulder, "listen, I'm gonna get going. You look like you could use some rest. I'll uh, I'll see you later." He turned to head towards the door.

A woeful sigh escaped her, watching sadly as he exited the room. She shifted beneath the covers, sinking down farther in bed and getting comfortable. Grabbing the remote from beside the bed, she pressed the red button on it, lowering the top half of her bed a few inches. She went on and shut her eyes, intent on finally getting some rest.

She had been tempted to ask him to stay with her, but she knew that was probably an impossible thing for her to be asking at the moment. Although she didn't know Matt as well as she might like to, she had a feeling he didn't want to be there anymore than he had to be. Obviously because of Christian's presence. It had been rather stupid to try and ask him to become friends with Courtney again, and to be honest, she didn't blame him for not forgiving her. Or even Christian for that matter. Still, she appreciated Matt stopping by and his concern for how she was doing.

She'd agreed to give Courtney a second chance at being her friend, but if by some sheer twist of fate, she blew it a second time, she knew she at least had a friend in Matt. Not only Matt, but Liz too. Suddenly, she knew that from here on out, she would no longer be alone. There were enough people in her life now who would always have her back, no matter what.


	43. Part Of The Family

( One Week Later )

"It's so good to finally meet you." Julia proclaimed to the young girl before her, a warm smile upon her face.

Amy nodded her head with a friendly smile. "Yeah, you too. I hope you don't mind me being here. I mean, I don't want to intrude or anything."

Upon hearing her words, Christian turned away from the refridgerator, a bottle of beer in his right hand. "Hey, you're _my_ daughter, remember? How many times do I have to tell you? You're not intruding. You belong here just as much as I do." He stepped towards her, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders and placing a kiss to the top of her head. Amy smiled softly at his gesture. The pungent aroma of hydrogen peroxide filled his nostrils for a brief moment, but he didn't mind it.

As of that afternoon, his daughter was back to her old self again. Not only was she recovering with no repercussions, but her blonde tresses had been flushed out earlier that day at the salon. Her hair was back to it's natural auburn hue, and the make-over from hell Kimber had given her was nothing more than a distant memory.

Julia leaned her hip against the counter, which ran down the center of the McNamara's kitchen. "Christian's right. You belong here just as much as he does, and any part of his family is a part of ours. We're happy to have you. Feel free to make yourself at home."

Amy smirked. "Thank you." Julia nodded in regard, turned around and walked over to help her daughter, Annie, finish setting the table for dinner. Christian stepped around Amy to the other end of the counter, retrieving a bottle opener from the drawer and popping the cap off of his beer bottle. "So, I been thinking a lot about that offer you made me," she remarked, leaning her hip against the counter just inside the front door.

Christian took a guzzle from his bottle before looking over at her. His brows furrowed in consideration. "What offer would that be?"

"The offer about the job at McNamara/Troy."

He nodded his head. "Oh, that offer."

"Yeah. Is it still good?"

"It never expired sweetheart."

She pushed herself away from the counter, taking a step towards him. Placing both of her hands on the counter before her, she leaned herself against it. "Well, I've decided, and I want to take it. I mean, once all the trial stuff against my adoptive father is over with." She sighed deeply, and he could sense that she was just as uneasy about it as he was.

He scowled, gently nodding his head. Closing the short distance between them, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders once again, looking intently down at her. "Stop worrying so much about it. That asshole isn't going to win this time. Not after all the shit I plan on bringing to the table. We're going to get through this, and we're going to get through it together. Everything is going to be fine, all right?"

She pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay, but about the job...it's a secretary position, right?"

"Right. All you have to do is answer the phones, schedule appointments every now and then, and file patient records. You think you can handle all that?"

Amy chuckled, "yeah, I can handle all that."

"Great." He stole a glance over his shoulder at Sean, who'd just come back from the bathroom, and was looking through the refrigerator for something to drink. "Did you hear that Sean? Looks like we've got ourselves a new secretary at McNamara/Troy."

Sean peeked his head out of the refridgerator, a look of surprise on his face. "Oh really? Who?"

He smiled smugly, looking down at his daughter and then back up at Sean. "Amy. I told her we'd be glad to offer her a job at the practice. She's already part of the family, so I don't see why she shouldn't be part of the business as well."

Sean smirked, stepping towards the two of them. "Of course." He turned his head to look down at Amy. "We'd be more than happy to have you around the office, Amy. We could certainly use the extra help. Do you have any past experience working in an office?"

She exchanged a look with Christian before looking back at Sean. "Well I worked..." Her voice trailed off, and everyone's attention was diverted to the sound of the door opening.

Matt stepped inside, not bothering to say "hello" to anyone, and immediately headed in the direction of his room. Sean, Christian and Amy all exchanged questioning looks. Sean turned around, calling out to his son. Matt stopped in his tracks, but didn't bother turning around. An irritable sigh escaped him, bringing one of his hands up to scratch the back of his head.

"We have company." Sean informed him. "Will you at least say 'hello?'"

Matt slowly turned around to face them, his gaze settling on Amy. A tight smile crossed his face. "Hi, Amy."

She returned his tight smile with one of her own. "Hey Matt. Your dad invited me over for dinner. Are you going to join us?" She stole a glance up at Christian, giving Matt somewhat of a pleading look.

His eyes fixated on Christian in an icy cold glare. Christian held his gaze for a long moment, knowing perfectly well he didn't want to be around him. It had been one whole week since he'd seen Matt or even talked to him. That should have given the kid more than enough time to cool off, but apparently, it didn't appear as if he had.

Matt stole a glance at Sean before his gaze rested back on Amy. "Sorry, but I'm not really all that hungry tonight." He started to turn around to continue on his way, but Christian didn't give him the chance.

"Matty!" Christian set down his beer, and stepped around the counter, scurrying towards him. "Matty, wait! I need to talk to you."

Matt sighed wearily, turning back around to glare at him. "About what? Talk about what?" He demanded. "Look, whatever the hell you have to say to me, I don't want to hear it. Just stay away from me."

Christian lowered his voice a few notches. "Look, I know you're still pissed at me for what I did, and I'm sorry, but it's been a week. You're still holding a grudge against me for something that happened a week ago?"

"You slept with my girlfriend! It doesn't make a difference if it happened a week ago or two weeks ago. It happened, and there's no way in hell you can go back and change anything."

"Matt..." Julia began, but Christian held up a hand to silence her.

"Julia, please, let me handle this, all right?" Christian cleared his throat and fixed his gaze back on Matt. He spoke again, keeping his voice at the same tone he'd used before. "I know damn well I can't go back and change the past, but I swear, I wouldn't have even screwed the little bitch if you or her would've told me you were seeing each other. Do you really think I would do that to you?"

"Well, gee, let's see, you seem to have such a habit of doing it, so yeah, you probably would've done it sooner or later anyway." Matt replied pointedly.

Christian exhaled sharply, planting his hands firmly on his hips. "You want to be pissed at someone right now, fine, but it shouldn't be me. It should be Courtney. _She_ was the little slut that failed to mention she had a boyfriend, and she sure as hell didn't come right out and tell me it was you."

He stole a glance over his shoulder at Amy, who, stood beside Sean watching the pair quietly conversing with a scowl upon her face. Turning his attention back on Matt, he went on. "Look, you don't want to be around me right now, I get that, all right? But Amy wants you here. The least you can do is be civil enough to stay and have dinner with us."

Matt averted his gaze to the other people in the room, his gaze resting once again on Amy. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. He just stood there, almost as if he were contemplating what to do next. Finally, after exuding a frustrated sigh, he brought his eyes back to Christian's face, but the vexation still gleamed within them. "Fine, I'll stay." Before Christian could say anymore, Matt walked past him towards the dinner table and took a seat.

Christian turned on his heels and walked back over to an expectant Amy. She smiled softly, "I don't know what you did, but thanks for getting him to stay."

He stole a glance over at Matt, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't be heard. "Don't thank me, sweetheart. Thank yourself. If it wasn't for you, he probably wouldn't have given it a second thought. He might hate _my_ guts, but he clearly doesn't hate yours." A smirk crept across his face as he leaned his frame against the counter. "Looks like you've got yourself a new friend."

The smile remained fixated on Amy's face. "I think I do." Pushing herself away from the counter, she walked over to where Matt was sitting, dropping into the seat beside him. Christian watched the pair for a moment. Part of him was pleased that Amy had become friends with Matt, but another part of him was somewhat disappointed. Though not with Amy, with himself. It was going to take some time for Matt to forgive him. He understood that. As much as he still despised Courtney, he'd brought this on himself and he was just going to have to live with that for the time being. Matt would come around, eventually. He was sure of it.

He took another swig from his beer bottle before joining both Amy and Matt. Deciding it was probably best not to be too close to him at the moment, he took the seat on the opposite side of Amy. Sean, Julia, and Annie followed after him and took their seats around the table. Julia's gaze fell on Amy as she took her seat, "well, Amy, I hope you like chinese."

"I _love_ chinese." Amy remarked.

He looked across the table at Julia, a smirk crossing his face. Looking over at his daughter, he sighed softly. "Well, I've said it before but I'll say it again. If she was once a Troy, she'll always be a Troy."

And that's exactly why Christian cherished Amy so much, and would continue to cherish her as time went on. There was no doubt about it. For the first time in his life, he felt whole. He didn't need a steady girlfriend to satisfy him anymore, and he sure as hell didn't need Kimber Henry. He had Amy. He had a child of his own. A child that he would give his life for in a heartbeat. A child that he would forever protect with his life. A child that had given so much back to him, and had managed to fill the void that had been left in his heart. Gender wasn't an issue. All that mattered was that she loved him, and he loved her. He wasn't about to let her go. Not now. Not ever. From here on out, whatever obstacles life threw in their path, they would get through them together.


End file.
